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HE    GIVETH    SONGS 


Oh,  life  hath  many  a  cloudy  day, 
And  many  griefs  and  wrongs  ! 

Yet  all  along  its  checkered  way 
'*He  giveth  songs." 


AT  THE   EVENING-TIME 

AND  OTHER  POEMS. 

A  New  Edition  of  "He  Giveth  Songs." 

BY 

W.    M.     L.    JAY,    A.    E.    HAMILTON 
AND  OTHERS 

^'■^        -   ■    ■: 

With  Illustrations  by  Miss  L.  B.  HtrMPHREY 


UNIVERSITY 

OF 

NEW  YORK 

E.    r.    BUTTON    AND    COMPANY 

31   West  23D  Street 

1892 


Copyright 

1892 

By  E.  p.  button  &  CO. 


NEW   YORK:    J.    J.    LITTLE   «.  CO.,    PRINTERS, 
10    TO   20   ASTOR    PLACE. 


PREFACE. 


In  grief  and  joy,  in  shadow  and  sunshine, 
by  night  and  day,  to  men  and  women  of  every 
clime,  every  age,  every  degree  of  poetic  talent 
and  culture,  **  He  giveth  songs."  Their  mis- 
sion of  hope,  cheer,  strength,  encouragement, 
and  consolation,  is  twofold, — first  to  the  spe- 
cial soul  that  sings,  and  afterwards  to  all  ear- 
nest souls  that  listen.  How  well  they  fulfill  this 
double  ministry,  may  be  inferred  from  the 
many  collections  of  religious  songs  that  have 
been  made,  and,  doubtless,  will  continue  to 
be  made.  For,  as  the  years  go  on,  there  are 
new  songs  by  new  singers  ;  and  though  the 
old  never  cease  to  delight  us  with  their  solidity 
of  thought  and  the  pleasant  quaintness  of  their 
phraseology  and  versification,  the  new  wear 
the  kindly  charm  of  every-day  likeness— they 
are  the  voices  of  our  own  time,  breathing  of 
our  own  hopes,  fears,  needs,  and  aspirations, 
and  we  cannot  choose  but  listen.    Yet,  wheth- 

V 

194358 


vi  PREFACE. 

er  the  songs  be  old  or  new,  sung  loudly  and 
clearly,  or  low  and  falteringly,  by  voices  trained 
and  skilled,  or  careless  and  untutored,  the 
burden  is  always  the  same, — the  great  Heart 
of  Humanity  uplifting  itself,  with  more  or  less 
of  the  patience  of  hope,  to  its  God  ;  and  wait- 
ing— aye,  yearning — for  the  day  when  it  shall 
sing  the  "  new  song "  and  drink  the  "  new 
wine  "  of  His  Kingdom.  The  voices  are  many, 
but  the  love  and  faith  are  one ;  and  the  con- 
cord, we  may  dare  to  believe,  is  sweet  not 
only  to  our  earthly  ears,  but  to  that  Divine 
Listener  who  scorns  not  to  receive  as  our  gifts 
to  Him  that  which  He  first  so  richly  bestowed 
on  us. 

This  collection  is  made  up  of  songs  old  and 
new,  known  and  unknown,  ancient  and  mod- 
ern,— put  side  by  side,  the  better  to  allow  of 
comparison,  and  bring  out  the  charm  of  con- 
trast. It  is  drawn  from  many  sources, — 
former  collections,  old  magazines  and  news- 
papers, in  a  few  cases  from  tenacious  memo- 
ries ;  but,  for  obvious  reasons,  poems  have 
been  preferred  which  are  not  comprised  in 
other  collections  of  the  day.  So  far  as  possi- 
ble, the  names  of  the  authors  are  given  ;  two 
only  are  represented  so  largely  as  to  appear 
on  the  title-page.     One  of  these   is  so  well 


PREFACE.  vii 

known  as  the  author  of  "Shiloh"  as  to  need 
no  further  introduction  ;  of  the  other  it  may 
not  be  amiss  to  speak  briefly. 

Miss  Anna  E.  Hamilton  died  early  in  1876, 
at  Castle  Hamilton,  Killeshandra,  Ireland, 
where  her  short  life  of  about  thirty  years  had 
been  quietly  spent.  One  who  knew  her  well 
writes  enthusiastically  of  the  beauty  of  her 
face  and  character,  describes  the  charming 
Irish  scenery  which  surrounded  her  home  and 
fed  her  imagination,  and  draws  a  pleasant 
picture  of  her  among  the  tenantry  of  the  es- 
tate, ministering  to  their  needs  and  teaching 
their  children, — literally  translating  into  action 
what  she  "taught  in  song."  Her  poems  first 
appeared  in  an  English  paper  called  "  The 
Church  Bells  ; "  afterwards  they  were  issued 
in  three  thin,  unpretentious  volumes.  They 
were  favorably  received  and  reviewed  ;  but 
they  are  almost  unknown  in  this  country. 
They  are  original  in  style  and  conception  ;  for 
the  most  part  short, — strictly  confined  to  one 
thought,  one  simile,  which  is  briefly  and 
tersely,  often  exquisitely,  expressed.  We  are 
sure  that  to  be  loved,  they  only  need  to  be 
known. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

God's  Promises \A,  E.  Hamilton.  i 

At  the  Evening-Time W,  M.  L.  Jay,  2 

Paradise Christina  G.  Rossetti,  5 

The  Footprint A,  E.  Hamilton.  8 

Consecration  Hymn Frances  R.  Havergal.  9 

The  Eternal  Now. ♦  .  ...Dora  Greenwell.  10 

Tears A.  E.  Hamilton,  il 

Gone .W.  M.  L.  Jay.  12 

At  the  Banquet Emily  E.  Braddock.  14 

Afflictions A.  E.  Hamilton.  15 

Praying  in  Spirit.  ..Harriet McEwen  Kimball.  15 

Patience Mary  J.  MacColl.  17 

Care '.A.  E.  Hamilton.  18 

Trust W.  M.  L.  Jay.  19 

The  Pulley Geoi-ge  Herbert.  20 

Sunset A.  E.  Hamilton.  21 

Couplets R.  G.  Trench.  21 

That  Day Christina  G.  Rossetti.  23 

Blind W.  M.  L.  Jay.  25 

"  He  shall  Save  His  VGO^^le^^'eic.  A. E.Hamilton.  27 

Prayer. Henry  Vaughan.  28 

The  North  Window. . . ....  ..Belle  White.  29 


X  CONTENTS, 

PAGE 

The  Cruse  that  Faileth  Not Anon.  31 

Thine  Own  Way Jean  Sophia  Pigott.  32 

Worries A.  E.  Hamilton.  34 

*•  That  Little  " W.  M.  L.  Jay.  35 

Dying  Deaths  Daily E.  T.  35 

The  Unseen A.  E.  Hamilton.  37 

My  Psalm John  G.  Whittier.  38 

Sad  and  Sweet Aubrey  de  Vere.  41 

Thou  Knowest  Best W.  M.  L.  Jay.  42 

The  Two  Twilights A.  E.  Hamilton.  44 

'*  Our  Light  Affliction  " Caroline  M.  Noel.  44 

"  The  Solitary  Places,"  ^iz.Mary  W.  McLain.  45 

Accepted  Times A.  E.  Hamilto7i.  46 

Isaiah,  xxvi.  3 W.  M.  L.  Jay.  47 

A  Supplication Bp.  Huntington.  48 

The  Deceitful  Heart A.  E.  Hamilton.  50 

Growing .Trances  R.  Havergal.  51 

The  Name  of  Jesus Caroline  M.  Noel.  52 

The  Withered  Leaf A.  E.  Hamilton.  55 

Transverse  and  Parallel W.  M.  L.  Jay.  55 

Day  by  Day D.  M.  Muloch.  57 

The  Violets A.  E.  Hamilton.  58 

Your  Mission Anon.  58 

The  Cross Caroline  M.  Noel.  59 

Wings Mary  E.  Atkinson.  61 

**  Complete  in  Him" A.  E.  Hamilton.  62 

Life's  History W.  M.  L.  Jay.  63 

The  Ransom A.  E.  Hamilton.  65 

Love  and  Discipline Henry  Vaughan,  66 


CONTENTS,  xi 

PAGE 

The  Path  through  the  Snow.  .,D.  M,  Muloch.  67 

As  Thou  Wilt.  . .  .  .Harriet  McEwen  Kifuball.  69 

Our  Master Joht  G,   Whittier.  6g 

The  Lowest  Place Christina  G,  Rossetti,  71 

Time's  Three-fold  Aspect W,  M,  L.  Jay,  72 

The  Stream  and  the  Rock. .  .A,  E.  Hamilton,  73 

My  Ships Mary  W,  McLain.  73 

Isaiah,  li.  12 A.  L,   Waring.  75 

"  I  am  that  I  am  " C,  Smart.  76 

Two  and  One W,  M,  L,  Jay.  77 

Seeing  Jesus A,  E,  Hamilton.  78 

The  Valley  of  Death From  the  Basque.  80 

The  Child  on  the  Judgment-Seat, 

Author  of  **  Schonberg-Cotta  Family.''  81 

The  Sacrifice  of  the  Will Anon,  85 

The  Cross A,  E,  Hamilton.  86 

Winchester  Cathedral Caroline  M,  Noel.  86 

'  *  There  shall  be  no  night  there  " .  W.M,L.  Jay.  89 

The  Turned  Lesson Frances  R,  Havergal.  90 

The  Lost  Coin A.  E,  Hamilton.  92 

Beyond Henry  Burton.  93 

The  Voice  Within W.  M,  L.  Jay.  94 

Jacob's  Ladder .,W.  Alexander.  95 

The  Wave A,  E.  Hamilton.  96 

I  Will  not  let  Thee  Go Deszler.  96 

The  Wherefore J,  S.  98 

The  Ascension A.  E,  Hamilton,  98 

The  Gospel  for  the  Day W,  M.  L.  Jay,  99 

Judge  Not A.  E,  Hamilton,  102 


Xii  CONTENTS, 

PAGE 

Waiting. Caroline  M.  Noel.   103 

My  Vesper  Song Mary  R.  Butler.   104 

If  Thou  Could'st  Know A.  A.  Proctor.   107 

Death A.  E.  Ha?7iilton.   108 

My  Prayer W.  M.  L.  Jay.    108 

Thanksgiving Frances  R.  Havergal.   log 

Jesu  Dulcis  Memoria.  .From  the  "  Breviary.'".   11 1 
The  Perfect  Will  of  God.  . .  .A.  E.  Hamilto7t.   112 

Love's  Questionings John  G.   Whittier.  113 

The  Touch  of  the  Unseen. Joseph  Cook.  113 

The  Hem  of  His  Garment.  .  .A.  E.  Hamilton.   115 
Easter  Thoughts  for  E.  Flowers..  W.M.L.  Jay.   115 

Life's  Tapestry Dora  Greenwell.  117 

"Gather  up  the  Fragments  ".  ^5".  A.  Ha7nilton.   117 

Thirty-Fold Margaret  J.  Preston.   119 

The  Beauty  of  Holiness ....  George  Macdonald.   120 

Calvary A.  E.  Hamilton.   121 

Emptiness W.  M.  L.  Jay.   122 

The  Secret  of  a  Happy  Day.  .F.  R.  Havergal.   123 

All's  Well Harriet  McEwen  Kimball.   126 

The  Painting A.  E.  Hamilton.   \2rj 

**  A  Little  While"  and  "  Forever" Anon.   127 

**  Rejoice  with  them  that,"  etc.A .E.Hafuilton.   129 

Night-Song W.  M.  L.  Jay.   129 

The  Love  of  God Saxe  Hohn.   131 

*'  Great  is  thy  Faith  " A.  E.  Ha?nilton.   132 

Offerings Caroline  M.  Noel.   132 

Hope  in  Trouble B.   W.  Noel.   134 

My  Friend W.  M.  L.  Jay.  135 


CONTENTS,  xiii 

PAGE 

Winnowing. C.  C.  Liddell.  137 

Emblems  of  Christ A,  E.  Hamilton.  139 

Not  Knowing Anon.  141 

Just  when  Thou  Wilt. . ,. Frances  R.  HavergaL  143 

His  Condescension A,  E.  Hamilton.  144 

The  Sea-side  Well John  Kerr.  145 

Sacrifice W.  M.  L.  Jay.  148 

The  Crucifixion A.  E.  Hamilton.  149 

The  Waiting John  G.  Whittier.  150 

He  Giveth  Songs  in  the  ^'x^t.John  P.  Hopps.  151 

The  Pillars  and  the  Road.  . .  A.  E.  Hamilton.  153 

At  Last.  . .    W.  M.  L.  Jay.  153 

Tender  Mercies ..A.  L.  Waring.  154 

Maximus .A.  A.  Proctor.  155 

Is  it  Peace  ? A.  E.  Hamilton.  .156 

The  Song  of  the  Bride ..P.  J.  Baily.  157 

Giving  as  the  World  Gives W,  M.  L.  Jay.  158 

Christ's  Giving A.  E.  Hamilton.  159 

**  To  Abide  in  the  Flesh,"  etc J.  Conder.  160 

Saints A,  E.  Hamilton.  161 

Sea-weed J.  R.  Lowell.  161 

In  Port Owe7t  Meredith.  163 

His  Jewels. W.  M.  L.  Jay.  164 

The  Mystery  of  Chastisement..  W.  Wilberforce.  167 

**  God  be  Merciful  to  me,"  etc.A.E.  Hamilton.  168 

In  the  Gloaming Mary  W.  McLaift.  168 

Angels E.  H.  W.  170 

Circles A.  E.  Hamilton.  172 

"  No  more  Sea  " JV,  M.  L.  Jay.  172 


xiv  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

"All  this  I  Steadfastly  Believe  " .  J.  S.Monsell.  174 
Who  shall  Deliver  me  ?.  .  Christina  G.  Rossetti.   175 

Sympathy A.  E.  Hamilton.   176 

Hymn  of  the  Fourteenth  Century Anott.   176 

His  Garment's  Hem W.  M.  L.  Jay.   178 

The  Kingdom  of  God R.  G.  Trench.   179 

Grace  for  Grace Mary  G.  Brainard.   181 

Death  and  the  Jewels A.  E.  Hamilton.   182 

The  Voyage  of  Earth J,  S.  183 

Question    and  Answer Anon.   184 

Humility   A.  E.  Hamilton.   185 

Thy  Way — not  Mine H.  Bonar.   185 

The  Vine W.  M.  L.  Jay.   187 

A  better  Resurrection.  .  ..Christina  G.  Rossetti.    189 

Importunity "  Good  Words.''  190 

The  Feast A.  E.  Hamilton.   192 

His  Share  and  Mine S.  M.  B.  Piatt.  193 

The  Elixir George  Herbert.   195 

Influence  .  . , A.  E.  Hamilton.   196 

The  Pharisaic  Watch W.  M.  L.Jay.   196 

Untimely  Gathered M.   W.  M.   198 

Suspiria H.   W.  Longfellow.  200 

Dark  and  Light W.  M.  L.  Jay.   201 

What  ? Caroline  M.  Noel.  202 

Commissioned Susan  Coolidge.  203 

The  Shaded  Light A.  E.  Hamilton.   205 

'*  I  Shall  be  Satisfied  " R.  A.  R.  206 

Is  it  So? 6".   208 

Sorrow A.  E.  Hamilton.   209 


CONTENTS, 


XV 


PAGE 

Graves W.  M.  L.  Jay.  209 

Couplets  of  Comfort From  the  Arabic.   211 

"  Like  as  a  Father  " Mary  W.  McLain.   213 

Life  through  Death R.  G.  French.   214 

The  Two  Voices W.  M.  L.  Jay,  214 

The  Stranded  Ship. A.  E.  Hamilton.  217 

The  Common  Ofiering. Harriet  McE.  Kimball.  218 

Alpha  and  Omega Caroline  M.  Noel.  218 

Elim ,.W.  M.  L.  Jay.   220 

The  Race A.  E.  Ha?nilton.   221 

The  Holy  Name Marion  Couthouy.  221 

Adoration Mine.  Guyon.  223 

A  Twilight  Thought W.  M.  L.  Jay.   iid^ 

The  Sea-Bird A.  E.  Hamilton.  226 

God's  Anvil Julius  Sturm.   227 

The  Mer  de  Glace A.  E.  Hamilton.  228 

Not  Lost J.  E.  H.  229 

**  But  be  ye  Glad,  and  Rejoice  ".  W. M.L.Jay.   229 
Hymn From  the  "  Breviary.''  232 


As  the  deep  blue  of  Heaven  bright- 
ens into  stars,  : 
So  God's  great  love  shines  forth 

in  promises,  i 

Which,  falling  softly  through   our     % 

prison  bars,  J 

Daze  not  our  eyes,  but  with  their      J^ 

soft  light  bless. 

Ladders  of  light  God  sets  against 
the  skies, 

Upon  whose  golden  rungs  we  step 
by   step   arise. 

Until  we  tread  the  [ . 
halls  of  Para-  ;_ 
dise. 


A  7'    THE  EVENING-TIME, 


AT  THE  EVENING-TIME. 

When  I  am  sitting  alone, 

At  closing  of  day, 
Hearing  the  bare  boughs  moan 

Over  the  way, — 
Watching  the  dark  clouds  flit 

'Twixt  the  sunset  and  me. 
Till  the  last  effulgent  bit 

Vanishes  utterly, — 
And  up  from  the  quiet  nooks 

Of  my  pleasant  room. 
Over  the  prints  and  the  books 

Creepeth  the  gloom  ; 
Till  each  pictured  friend's  dear  face, 

And  the  crimson  rose  at  my  side- 
All  loveliness,  color,  and  grace- 
Sink  in  the  silent  tide  ; 
And  I,  bereft  and  alone, 

Am  left  'mid  the  rising  waves. 
Hearing  the  bare  boughs  moan, 

And  counting  my  graves  ; — 
There  comes — like  a  bell's  far  chime 

Over  the  water  at  night — 
The  thought  that  "  At  evening-time 

It  shall  be  light." 


AT    THE   EVEy/NG-TIME. 

And  lo,  through  a  cloud's  gray  fringe, 

Faintly  doth  show 
The  first  soft,  silvery  tinge 

Of  a  hidden  glow  ; 
And  silently,  one  by  one. 

The  dusky  draperies  part, 
Till  kindly  a  star  looks  down 

Into  my  waiting  heart. 
And  ever  the  clouds  give  place, 

And  ever  the  dusk  grows  pale. 
Till  from  the  moon's  bright  face 

Droppeth  the  latest  veil ; 
And  over  the  prints  and  the  books, 

And  the  crimson  rose  at  my  side, 
And  into  the  quiet  nooks, 

Floweth  a  silver  tide  ; 
And  all  that  was  dark  is  light, 

And  all  that  was  lost  is  found, — 
Touched  with  a  softer  light, 

With  serener  beauty  crowned  ; — 
And  the  pictured  faces  light  up, 

Sweeter  for  banishment, 
And  my  soul,  as  a  crystal  cup, 

Fills  with  content. 


So,  as  nearer  me,  silent  and  cold, 
Death  rolleth  its  tide, 


AT   THE  EVENING-TIME. 

And  treasures  are  swept  from  my  hold, 

And  friends  from  my  side, — 
And  something  of  courage  and  will, 

And  something  of  hope  and  delight, 
Each  day  'neath  the  waters  chill 

Sink  out  of  sight, — 
And,  ever  more  weary  and  lone, 

I  am  left  'mid  the  waves. 
Hearing  my  lost  hopes  moan, 

And  counting  my  graves  : — 
Nay,  more, — when  that  solemn  sea. 

Evermore  gathering  strength, 
Solemnly,  swiftly  o'er  me 

Rolleth  its  waves  at  length, — 
While  faces  of  friends  around, 

And  the  hushed  and  shadowed  room, 
With  memory,  sight,  and  sound, 

Drift  into  gloom, — 
I  think  that  those  waves  as  they  climb, 

Need  not  my  soul  affright, 
That  still,  "  At  the  evening-time. 

It  shall  be  light." 


Through  the  swaying,  sombre  fringe 
Of  the  curtained  clouds,  I  know 

There  will  steal  some  faint,  soft  tinge 
Of  a  coming  glow, — 


PARADISE. 

Some  dusky  drapings  of  fear, 

Some  shadowy  tremors  will  part, 
Some  star  ot  heavenly  cheer 

Shine  into  my  heart. 
And  ever  the  clouds  will  give  place, 

And  ever  the  dusk  grow  pale, 
Till  from  my  Saviour's  face 

Droppeth  the  last,  thin  veil, — 
And  faith  in  seeing  is  lost, 

And  seeing  in  loving  grows  dim, 
And  nothing  is  counted  as  cost 

That  hath  brought  me  unto  Him. 
And  all  that  was  dark  is  bright, 

And  all  that  was  pain  is  peace, 
As  the  Day  that  shall  know  no  night 

Beginneth,  and  shall  not  cease  ; 
And  long-lost  faces  light  up, 
Dearer  for  banishment, — 
And  my  soul,  as  a  deep,  deep  cup. 

Fills  with  content. 


PARADISE. 

Once  in  a  dream  I  saw  the  flowers 
That  bud  and  bloom  m  Paradise  ; 
More  fair  they  are  than  waking  eyes 

Have  seen  in  all  this  world  of  ours. 


PARADISE, 

And  faint  the  perfume-bearing  rose, 

And  faint  the  lily  on  its  stem, 
And  faint  the  perfect  violet, 
Compared  with  them. 

I  heard  the  songs  of  Paradise ; 

Each  bird  sat  singing  in  his  place, — 
A  tender  song  so  full  of  grace. 

It  soared  like  incense  to  the  s.kies. 

Each  bird  sat  singing  to  his  mate 
A  tender  song  among  the  trees ; 

The  nightingale  herself  were  cold 
To  such  as  these. 

I  saw  the  fourfold  River  flow, 

And  deep  it  was,  with  golden  sand  ; 
It  flowed  between  a  mossy  land, 

With  murmured  music  grave  and  low. 

It  hath  refreshment  for  all  thirst, 

For  fainting  spirits  strength  and  rest ; 

Earth  holds  not  such  a  draught  as  this 
From  east  to  west. 

The  Tree  of  Life  stood  budding  there. 
Abundant  with  its  twelvefold  fruits  ; 
Eternal  sap  sustains  its  roots, 

Its  shadowing  branches  fill  the  air. 


PARADISE.  7: 

Its  leaves  are  healing  for  the  world, 

Its  fruits  the  hungry  world  can  feed, — 
Sweeter  than  honey  to  the  taste, 
And  balm  indeed. 

I  saw  the  Gate  called  Beautiful, 

And  looked,  but  scarce  could  look  within ; 

I  saw  the  golden  streets  begin, 
And  outskirts  of  the  glassy  pool. 

0  harps,  O  crowns  of  plenteous  stars, 

O  green  palm  branches  many-leaved, — 
Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  hath  heard, 
Nor  heart  conceived  ! 

1  hope  to  see  those  things  again. 

But  not  as  once  in  dream  of  night, — 
To  see  them  with  my  very  sight, 

And  touch  and  handle  and  attain ; 

To  have  all  Heaven  beneath  my  feet, 
For  narrow  way  that  once  they  trod, — 

To  have  my  part  with  all  the  saints, 
And  with  my  Ciod. 


THE   FOOTPRINT. 


THE  FOOTPRINT. 


As  once  towards  Heaven  my  face  was  set, 
I  came  unto  a  place  where  two  ways  met; 
One  led  to  Paradise,  and  one  away, 
And  fearful  of  myself  lest  I  should  stray, 

I  paused  that  I  might  know 
Which  was  the  way  wherein  I  ought  to  go. 
The  first  was  one  my  weary  eyes  to  please, 
Winding  along  through  pleasant  fields  of  ease. 
Beneath  the  shadows  of  fair  branching  trees. 
"  This  path  of  calm  and  solitude 
Surely  must  lead  to  heaven,"  I  cried 

In  joyous  mood; 
"Yon  rugged  one,  so  rough  for  weary  feet, 
The  footpath  of  the  world's  too  busy  street, 
Lying  amid  the  haunts  of  human  strife. 
Can  never  be  the  narrow  way  of  life." 
But  at  that  moment  I  thereon  espied 
A  footprint  bearing  trace  of  having  bled, 
And  knew  it  for  the  Christ's,   so  bowed  my 
head, 

And  followed  where  He  led. 


CONSECRATION  HYMN, 


CONSECRATION   HYMN. 

Take  my  life,  and  let  it  be 
Consecrated,  Lord,  to  Thee. 

Take  my  moments  and  my  days ; 
Let  them  flow  in  ceaseless  praise. 

Take  my  hands,  and  let  them  move 
At  the  impulse  oi  Thy  love. 

Take  my  feet,  and  let  them  be 
Swilt  and  •'  beautilul  "  for  Thee. 

Take  my  voice,  and  let  me  sing 
Always,  only,  lor  my  King. 

Take  my  lips,  and  let  them  be 
Filled  with  messages  Irom  Thee. 

Take  my  silver  and  my  gold; 
Not  a  mite  would  I  withhold. 

Take  my  intellect,  and  use 

Every  power  as  Thou  shalt  choose. 


THE   ETERNAL   NOW, 

Take  my  will,  and  make  it  Thine  ; 
It  shall  be  no  longer  mine. 

Take  my  heart,  it  is  Thine  own  ; 
It  shall  be  Thy  royal  throne. 

Take  my  love  ;  my  Lord,  I  pour 
At  Thy  feet  its  treasure-store. 

Take  myself,  and  1  will  be 
Ever,  only,  all  for  Thee. 


THE  ETERNAL  NOW. 

"  For  one  day  in  Thy  sight  is  as  a  thoiisand years,  and  a 
ihottsand years  as  one  day.'' 

"  Now  have  I  won  a  marvel  and  a  truth  ; " 
So  spake  the  Soul  and  trembled, — **  dread  and 

ruth 
Together  mixed  ;  for  I  did  sin  of  yore  ; 
But  this  (so  said  I  oft)  was  long  ago,— 
So  put  it  from  me  far  away  ;  but  lo  ! 
With  Thee  is  neither  After  nor  Before, 
O  Lord,  and  clear  within  the  noonlight  set 
Of  one  illimitable  Present,  yet 


TEARS.  II 

Thou  lookest  on  my  fault  as  it  were  now. 
So  will  I  mourn  and  humble  me  ;  yet  Thou 
Art  not  as  man,  that  oft  forgives  a  wrong 
Because  he  half  forgets  it,  Time  being  strong 
To  wear  the  crimson  of  guilt's  stain  away  ; — 
For  Thou,  forgiving,  dost  so  in  the  Day 
That  shows  it  clearest, — in  the  boundless  sea 
Of  Mercy  and  Atonement,  utterly 
Casting  our  pardoned  trespasses  behind, — 
No  more  remembered,  or  to  gome  to  mind, 
Set  wide  from  us  as  East  from  West  away. 
So  now  this  bitter  turns  to  solace  kind  ; 
And  I  will  comfort  me  that  once  of  old, 
A  deadly  sorrow  struck  me,  and  its  cold 
Runs  through  me  still  ;  but  this  was  long  ago. 
My  grief  is  dull  through  age,  and   friends  out- 
worn, 
And  wearied  comforters,  have  long  forborne 
To  sit  and  weep  beside  me  ; — Lord,  yet  Thou 
Dost  look  upon  my  pang  as  it  were  now  !  " 


TEARS 

Even  here. 
From  His  dear  children's  eyes,  God  wipes  the 
tear  ; 


1 2  GONE. 

And  who  would  mourn  a  tear  should   fill   his 
eye, 

For  God  to  dry  ? 
Angels  might  envy  man  his  tearful  eyes 

When  God's  hand  dries. 


GONE. 

What  if  the  heat  and  the  burden, 

Trouble  and  toil  of  our  day, 
Meet  with  inadequate  guerdon  ? 

'Tis  but  a  task  by  the  way. 
Others  will  labor  and  sorrow, 

Struggle  with  tare  and  with  thorn, 
Filling  our  places  to-morrow, — 

We  on  our  way  shall  be  gone  ;  — 
We  shall  be  gone,  past  toil,  past  tears, 
Into  the  peace  of  the  endless  years. 

What  if,  ere  seed  of  our  sowing 

Showeth  or  leaflet  or  shoot. 
We  must  pass  onward,  unknowing 

What  shall  be  blossom  or  fruit  } 
Sunshine  and  breeze  will  befriend  it, 

Dewdrops  of  eve  and  of  dawn  ; 
Hands  be  outstretched  to  defend  it 

Haply — though  we  shall  be  gone, — 


GONE.  13 

We  shall  be  gone,  past  want,  past  woe, 
Into  the  joys  which  the  angels  know. 

What  if  our  labor  seems  wasted  ? 

What  if,  of  all  we  have  sown, 
Never  ripe  fruit  we  have  tasted, 

Never  glad  harvesting  known  ? 
Others,  in  brighter  to-morrows, 

Lifting  glad  songs  to  the  morn. 
Richly  may  reap  from  our  furrows — 

Ripened,  though  we  shall  be  gone, — 
We  shall  be  gone,  past  songs,  past  sighs. 
Into  the  fulness  of  Paradise. 

Not  to  ourselves  are  we  living  ; 

Not  to  ourselves  do  we  die  ; 
Freely  receiving  as  giving, 

Soul  after  soul  marches  by, — 
Parts  of  one  mighty  procession, 

Stretching  from  Eden's  first  dawn 
On  through  large  curves  of  progression, 

Till  in  the  Future  'tis  gone, — 
Gone  from  earth's  ken,  past  beat,  past  breath, 
Into  the  life  that  is  miscalled  death. 

Out  of  the  strain  of  the  Doing 

Into  the  peace  of  the  Done  ; 
Out  of  the  thirst  of  Pursuing 

Into  the  rapture  of  Won  ; 


,14  AT   THE  BANQUET, 

Out  of  gray  mist  into  brightness, 

Out  of  pale  dusk  into  dawn, — 
Out  of  all  wrong  into  rightness, 

We  from  these  fields  shall  be  gone. 
"  Nay,"  say  the  saints,  "  r\oi  gojte,  but  come, 
Into  eternity's  Harvest-Home  ! " 


AT  THE   BANQUET. 

Froth,  or  scum,  or  sparkling  wine. 
In  that  brimming  cup  of  thine  ? 
Take  it  without  word  or  sign  ! 

Sweet  or  bitter  though  it  be, 
'Tis  the  portion  mixed  for  thee, 
Out  of  all  the  company. 

Is  it  sweet  ?     Ay,  life  is  fair  ; 

Yet,  sip  thou  the  draught  with  care,- 

Sweets  may  surfeit  unaware. 

Bitter  ?  Quaff,  and  call  it  good  ! 
Though  by  thee  not  understood, 
*Tis  a  tonic  for  thy  blood. 

He  who  drinketh,  looking  up 
For  a  blessing  on  his  cup. 
Doth  with  God  and  angels  sup. 


PR  A  YING  IN   SPIRIT,  \  5 


AFFLICTIONS. 

As  a  ploughed  field, 
Left  desolate  and  bare 
To  winter  storms  and  chilly,  frosty  air, — 
Vet  only  thus  made  dreary  for  awhile, 
That  richer  there  the  harvest  grain  may  smile; 
So  is  the  heart  whose  sod, 
Tender  and  green. 
Hath  deeply  been 
Upturned  by  God, 
Its  sprouting  blades  laid  low, — 
Yet  only  broken  thus  by  griefs  ploughshare, 

That  in  its  furrows  He  might  sow 
The   seed    of   righteousness,  which    shall   in- 
crease 
Until  it  yield  the  harvest  of  eternal  peace. 

PRAYING  IN  SPIRIT. 

"  Bui  thou,  7uhen  thou  prayest,  enter  into  thy  closet,  and 
when  thou  hast  shut  thy  door,  pray  to  thy  Father  which  is 
in  secret."^— '^i.  Matt.  vi.  6. 

I  NEED  not  leave  the  jostling  world, 
Or  wait  till  daily  tasks  are  o'er, 

To  fold  my  palms  in  secret  prayer 
Within  the  close-shut  closet  door. 


1 6  PRAYING  IN  SPIRIT. 

There  is  a  viewless,  cloistered  room, 
As  high  as  heaven,  as  fair  as  day, 

Where,  though  my  feet  may  join  the  throng. 
My  soul  can  enter  in  and  pray. 

When  I  have  banished  wayward  thoughts — 
Of  sinful  works  the  fruitful  seed, — 

When  folly  wins  my  ear  no  more, 
The  closet  door  is  shut  indeed. 

No  human  step,  approaching,  breaks 
The  blissful  silence  of  the  place  ; 

No  shadow  steals  across  the  light 
That  falls  from  my  Redeemer's  face  ! 

And  never  through  those  crystal  walls 
The  clash  of  life  can  pierce  its  way, 

Nor  ever  can  a  human  ear 

Drink  in  the  spirit-words  I  say. 

One  hearkening,  even,  cannot  know 
When  I  have  crossed  the  threshold  o'er, 

For  He,  alone,  who  hears  my  prayer, 
Has  heard  the  shutting  of  the  door! 


PATIENCE.  17 


PATIENCE. 

"  Bide  a  wee  and  dinna  weary," 

Patience  quaintly  was  defined 
By  a  little  Scottish  maiden ; 

And  the  sweet  words  in  my  mind 
Ever  linger,  like  the  memory 

Of  a  beautiful  refrain, 
Making  hours  of  gloom  less  dreary 

When  1  breathe  them  o'er  again. 

Fretted  by  the  many  crosses 

All  must  bear  from  day  to  day, 
Troubled  by  our  cares  and  losses, 

Each  of  us  hath  need  to  say 
To  our  hearts,  impatient,  crying 

For  the  ships  so  long  at  sea, 
While  faith  faints  and  hope  is  dying, — 

"  Dinna  weary,  bide  a  wee." 

Rainy  days  each  life  will  sadden, 

Gentle  shower  or  tempest  wild 
Fall  upon  us, — blessings  gladden 

In  their  turn.     To  every  child 
Gives  the  Father,  or  withholdeth. 

Ever  wisely,  tenderly  ; 
Thus  our  hearts  for  Heaven  He  mouldeth, 

"  Dinna  weary,  bide  a  wee." 
2 

^V^  OF  THE  . 


8  CARE. 

Some  there  are  whom  glad  fruition 

'Neath  the  skies  may  never  bless, 
Some  to  whose  long-urged  petition 

Ne'er  will  come  the  yearned-for  "  Yes.'' 
Why  ?     God  knoweth, — He  who  lendeth 

Strength  to  suffer  trustingly  ; 
What  He  seeth  best  He  sendeth, — 

"  Dinna  weary,  bide  a  wee." 

Hopeful  wait  a  glad  "  to-morrow/' 

Cast  on  Jesus  every  care; 
Not  unseen  by  Him  thy  sorrow, 

Not  unpitied  thy  despair. 
For  His  people  there  remaineth 

Rest  and  p^ace  eternally, 
Where  the  light  of  joy  ne'er  waneth, — 

'•  Dinna  weary,  bide  a  wee." 


CARE. 

As  one  who  through  a  tree 
Looks  unto  distant  sunlit  hills, 
And  cannot  see 
Their  beauty  through  the  branching  tracery  ; 


TRUST. 


19 


So  we, 
From  this  dark  world  of  which  we  are  so  fond, 
Through  the  dense  branches   of  the   tree  of 

care, — 
Which,  although  leafless,  all  our  vision  fills, — 
Can  scarce  discern  the  radiance  fair 
Of  the  bright  world  beyond. 


TRUST. 

When  darkness  gathers  round  my  path, 
And  all  my  song-birds  cease  to  sing, 

I  know  it  is  not  sent  in  wrath, — 
'Tis  but  the  shadow  of  Thy  wing  ! 

When  dancing  sunbeams  round  me  shine, 
And  Joy  and  Peacefuhiess  embrace, 

I  know  the  radiance  is  not  mine, — 
*Tis  just  the  brightness  of  Thy  face  ! 


THE   PULLEY. 


THE  PULLEY. 


**  The  eye  is  not  satisfied  with  seeing  ;    nor  the  ear  with 
hearing.^"" 

When  God  at  first  made  man, 
Having  a  glass  of  blessing  standing  by, — 
Let  us,  said  He,  pour  on  him  all  we  can; 
Let  the  world's  riches,  which  dispersed  lie, 

Contract  into  a  span. 

So  strength  first  made  a  way; 
Then    beauty    flowed,   then    wisdom,    honor, 

pleasure  ; 
When  almost  all  was  out,  God  made  a  stay. 
Perceiving  that  alone,  of  all  His  treasure, 

Rest  at  the  bottom  lay. 

For  if  I  should,  said  He, 
Bestow  this  jewel  also  on  my  creature. 
He  would  adore  my  gifts  instead  of  Me, 
And  rest  in  nature,  not  the  God  of  nature; — 

So  both  should  losers  be. 

Yet,  let  him  keep  the  rest, 
But  keep  them  with  repining  restlessness; 
Let  him  be  rich,  and  weary, — that  at  least,    . 
If  goodness  lead  him  not,  yet  weariness 

May  toss  him  to  My  breast. 


COUPLETS,  21 


SUNSET. 


When  my  sun  of  life,  O  Christ,  is  setting, 
Biol  out  my  sins  as  clouds  in  love  forgetting, 
Spreading  the  crimson  of  Thy  cross's  dye 

Over  my  fading  sky;  — 
We  only  through  a  crimsoned  west 

May  enter  into  rest. 


COUPLETS. 

Guest  in  a  ruinous  hut,  thou  loathest  to  de- 
part : 

Were  thine  a  finer  house,  'twould  prov^e  a  bit- 
terer smart. 

God's  dealings  still  are  love— His  chastenings 

are  alone 
Love  now  compelled  to  take  an  altered,  louder 

tone. 

When  thou  hast  thanked  thy  God   for  every 

blessing  sent. 
What  time  will  then  remain   for  murmurs  or 

lament  ? 


22  COUPLETS, 

Their  windows  and  their  doors  some   dose, — 

and  murmuring,  say, 
The   light   of   heaven   ne'er   sought   into   my 

house  a  way. 

God  often  would  enrich,  but  finds  not  where 

to  place 
His  treasure, — nor  in  hand  nor  heart  a  vacant 

space. 

The  oyster  sickens  while  the  pearl  doth  sub- 
stance win  ; 

Thank  God  for  pains  that  prove  a  noble 
growth  within. 

Some  are  resigned  to  go, — might  we  such 
grace  attain, 

That  we  should  need  our  resignation  to  re- 
main. 

God's  loudest  threatenings  speak  of  love  and 

tenderest  care, 
For  who,  that  wished  his  blow  to  light,  would 

say.  Beware  } 

When  God  afflicts  thee,  think  He  hews  a 
rugged  stone, 

Which  must  be  shaped,  or  else  aside  as  use- 
less thrown- 


THA  T  DA  V. 


23 


He  knew,  who  healed  our  wounds,  we  quickly 
should  be  fain 

Our  old  hurts  to  lorget — so  let  the  scars  re- 
main. 

Why  win  we  not  at  once  what  we  in  prayer 

require  ? 
That  we  may  learn  great  things  as  greatly  to 

desire. 

One  furnace,  many  times,  the  good  and  bad 

will  hold  ; 
Yet  what  consumes  the  chaff  will  only  cleanse 

the  gold. 


THAT  DAY, 

The  earth  and  heaven  were  rolled  up  like  a 
scroll  ; 
Time  and   space,   change    and   death,   had 
passed  away  ; 
Weight,  number,  measure,  each  had  reached 
its  whole  ; 
The  Day  had  come,  that  day. 


24  THA  T  DA  V. 

Multitudes— multitudes — stood  up  in  bliss, 
Made  equal  to  the  angels,  glorious,  fair ; 

With  harps,  palms,  wedding  garments,  kiss  of 
peace, 
And  crowned  and  haloed  hair. 

They  sang  a  song,  a  new  song  in  the  height. 
Harping  with  harps  to   Him  who  is  strong 
and  true  ; 
They  drank   new  wine,  their  eyes  saw  with 
new  light, 
Lo,  all  things  were  made  new. 

As  though  one  pulse   stirred   all,  one  rush  of 
blood 
Fed  all,  one   breath   swept   through   them 
myriad-voiced ; 
They   struck    their    harps,    cast    down    their 
crowns,  they  stood 
And  worshipped  and  rejoiced. 

Each  face  looked  one  way  like  a  moon  new- 
lit, 
Each  face  looked  one  way  towards   its  Sun 
of  Love; 
Drank  love,  and  bathed  in  love,  and   mirrored 
it, 
And  knew  no  end  thereof. 


BLIND. 


25 


Glory  touched  glory  on  each  blessed  head, 
Hands  locked  dear  hands  never   to  sunder 
more  ; 

These  were  the  new-begotten  iVom  the  dead 
Whom  the  great  Birthday  bore. 

Heart  answered  heart,  soul  answered   soul  at 
rest, 

Double  against  each  other,  filled,  sutticed ; 
All  loving,  loved  of  all  ;  but  loving  best 

And  best  beloved  ot  Christ. 


BLIND. 

I  DO  not  try  to  see  my  way. 

Before,  behind,  or  leit,  or  right; 

1  cannot  tell  what  dangers  gray 

Do  haunt  my  steps,  nor  at  what  height 

Above  the  sea  my  path  doth  wind — 
For  1  am  blind. 

If  by  my  side  a  chasm  yawns, 

Oft  unawares  I  pass  it  by  ; 
I  feel  no  fear  though  crimson  dawns 

With  solemn  portents  fill  the  sky  ; — 
Slow,  step  by  step,  my  way  I  find. 
Patient— and  blind. 


26  BLIND, 

I  know  not  if  my  goal  doth  shine 
Misty  and  faint  in  distant  bhie, 

Or  if  these  weary  feet  of  mine 

Its  border  lands  are  pressing  through; 

I  question,  yet  no  answer  find, 
For  I  am  blind. 

On  smooth  and  sunny  heights,  I  laugh  , 

In  thorny  thickets,  oft  I  weep  ; 
Of  cool,  sweet  fountams  now  I  quaff, 
And  now  of  bitter  springs  drink  deep, — 
•    Daring  to  turn  from  neither  kind, 
Smce  I  am  blind. 

Yet  not  without  a  guide  I  wend 
My  unseen  way,  by  day,  by  night; 

Close  by  my  side  there  walks  a  Friend, — 
Strong,  tender,  true,  — I  trust  His  sight; 

He  sees  my  way,  before,  behind, 
Though  I  am  blind. 

He  leads  me  as  He  thinketh  best, 

And  all  the  checkered  way  He  knows; 

Knows  when  I  need  to  stop  and  rest. 
And  when  to  flee  from  lurking  foes, — 

Which  paths  are  safe,  which  undermined 
To  trip  the  blind. 


''HE  SHALL  SAVE  HIS  PEOPLEr   27 

Of  all  my  backward  way  I  know 

But  lillle,  save  that  thus  far  on 
My  Friend  hath  led  me  safe  ;  and  so 

I  trust  when  once  the  goal  is  won, 
Good  cause  of  thankfulness  to  find 
That  I  was  blind. 

For  in  that  goal's  diviner  light, 

And  from  that  Friend's  revealed  face, 

My  thirsty  eyes  will  drink  in  sight, 
And  I  shall  learn  what  tender  grace 

Led  me  through  paths  with  dangers  lined, 
Safely — and  blind. 


"HE  SHALL  SAVE  HIS   PEOPLE  FROM 
THEIR  SINS." 

I  MET  the  Saviour  in  the  evening  hours ; 

The  sun  was  sinking  in  the  quiet  west ; 

His  hands  were  filled  v^ith  newly  gathered 
flowers. 

With  which  His  Father's  mansions  should  be 
dressed. 

I  looked  upon  them  with  a  strange  sur- 
prise ; — 

He  read  the  thoughts  my  looks  alone  ex- 
pressed ; — 


28   ''HE  SHALL  SAVE  HIS  PEOPLED 

"  Master,  are  these  indeed  earth's  very  best  — 
Buds  nipped  and  bitten  rudely  by  the  frost — 
Blossonris  with  petals  tempest-torn  and  tost  ? 
And  surely  Thou   hast    gathered    them    with 

cost ! " 
The  Saviour  spake  with  mercy  in  His  eyes, — 

"  I  came  to  save  the  lost." 
The  Son  of  Man  hath  healing-  for  His  art ; 
The  withering  buds  men  scornfully  despise, 
God  gathers  up  and  freshens  on  His  heart. 


PRAYER. 

When  tirst  thy  eyes  unveil,  give  thy  soul  leave 

To  do  the  like ;  our  bodies  but  forerun 
The   spirit's   duty.     True   hearts  spread  and 
heave 
Unto  their  God,  as  flowers  do  to  the  sun. 
Give    Him  thy  first  thoughts  then  ;    so   shalt 

thou  keep 
Him  company  all  day,  and  in  Him  sleep. 


THE  NORTH  WINDOW. 


*'They  will  not  grow, "the  grave  old  gardener 
said, 

••  No  tlower  that  blows  could  bear  such  cheer- 
less bed  ; 

Even  lerns  and  rushes  would  not  li(t  their 
head. 


*•  So  let  the  pleasant  window  garden  go  ! 
For  you,  no  greenery  in  the  time  of  snow  ; — 
For  those  whose  world  looks  North,  it  must 
be  so." 

29 


30 


THE  NORTH  WINDOW. 


He  spoke  so  surely  that  I,  just  in  spite, 
Went   home,    and   ere    closed   in    November 

night, 
I  made  my  Northern  window  gay  and  bright 

With    reeds    and    rushes,   grasses,    swaying 

ferns. 
And   many    a   flower   that   in    the   woodland 

yearns 
For  brighter   sunshine,   yet    no   stray   beam 

spurns. 

**  We  will  look  North  together,  you  and  I; 
No  matter  what  they  say,  we  will  not  die, — " 
I  whispered   them, — "  Let   us    give   song   for 
sigh !  " 

For  both  it  was  much  easier  said  than  done; 
Sometimes  we  nearly  lost  the  new  life  won  ; 
Often  we   cried  in  pain,   "  More  sun !    more 
sun  ! " 

But  yet  we  lived,  and  as  the  days  grew  long, 
Our  scanty   store   of    sunbeams   grew   more 

strong  ; 
The  ferns  and  rushes  pushed  an  eager  throng 


THE  CRUSE   THAT  FAILETH  NOT.    31 

or  blades  and  leaflets  to  the  gladdening  rays : 
Their  growth  was   one   sweet,  silent  song  of 

praise, — 
The  tiny  Ibiest  "  lived  melodious  days." 

Stooping,  I  whispered  softly,  '•  Bend  your  ear 
For  our  own  secret,  ferns  and  rushes  dear; 
Our  wot  Id  looked   North— but  God,  He  gave 
good  cheer.** 


THE  CRUSE  THAT  FAILETH  NOT. 

*'  //  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive." 

Is   thy  cruse  of  comfort   wasting  ?    rise   and 

share  it  with  another. 
And,  through  all   the  years  of  famine,  it  shall 

serve  thee  and  thy  brother ; 
Love  Divine  will  fill  thy  storehouse,  or  thv 

handful  still  renew  ; 
Scanty  fare  for  one  will  often  make  a  royal 

feast  for-  two. 

For  the  heart  grows   rich  in  giving  ;  all  its 

wealth  is  living  grain  ; 
Seeds  which  mildew  in  the  garner,  scattered, 

fill  with  gold  the  plain. 


32  THINE  OWN  WAY, 

Is  thy  burden  hard  and  heavy  ?     Do  thy  steps 

drag  wearily  ? 
Help  to  bear  thy  brother's   burden  ;    God  will 

bear  both  it  and  thee. 

Numb  and  weary  on  the  mountains,  would'st 
thou  sleep  amidst  the  snow  ? 

Chafe  that  frozen  form  beside  thee,  and  to- 
gether both  shall  glow. 

Art  thou  stricken  in  life's  battle?  —  many 
wounded  round  thee  moan  ; 

Lavish  on  their  wounds  thy  balsams,  and  that 
balm  shall  heal  thine  own. 

Is  thy  heart  a  well  left  empty  ?  None  but  God 
its  void  can  fill  ; 

Nothing  but  a  ceaseless  fountain  can  its  cease- 
less longing  still  : 

Is  the  heart  a  living  power  ?  Self-entwined, 
its  strength  sinks  low  ; 

It  can  only  live  in  loving  ;  and  by  serving, 
love  will  grow. 

THINE  OWN  WAY. 

Take  Thine  own  way  with  me,  dear  Lord, 
Thou  canst  not  otherwise  than  bless ; 

I  launch  me  forth  upon  a  sea 

Of  boundless  love  and  tenderness. 


THINE   OWN    WAY, 

I  could  not  choose  a  larger  bliss 

Than  to  be  wholly  Thine  ;  and  mine 

A  will  whose  highest  joy  is  this, 
To  ceaselessly  unclasp  in  Thine. 

I  will  not  fear  Thee,  O  my  God ! 

The  days  to  come  can  only  bring 
Their  perfect  sequences  of  love. 

Thy  larger,  deeper  comforting. 

Within  the  shadow  of  this  love. 
Loss  doth  transmute  itself  to  gain  ; 

Faith  veils  earth's  sorrows  in  its  light, 
And  straightway  lives  above  her  pain. 

We  are  not  losers  thus  ;  we  share 
The  perfect  gladness  of  the  Son, — 

Not  conquered — for,  behold,  we  reign, 
Conquered  and  Conqueror  are  one. 

Thy  wonderful  grand  will,  my  God  ! 

Triumphantly  I  make  it  mine ; 
And  faith  shall  breathe  her  glad  "Amen  ' 

To  every  dear  command  of  Thine. 

Beneath  the  splendor  of  Thy  choice, 
Thy  perfect  choice  for  me,  I  rest ; 

Outside  it  now  I  dare  not  live, 
Within  it  I  must  needs  be  blest. 
3 


1'6 


34  WORRIES, 

Meanwhile,  my  spirit  anchors  calm 
In  grander  regions  still  than  this  ; 

The  fair,  iar-shining  latitudes 
Of  that  yet  unexplored  bliss. 

Then  may  Thy  perfect,  glorious  will 

Be  evermore  lulnlled  in  me, 
And  make  my  hie  an  answering  chord 

01  glad,  responsive  harmony. 

Oh,  it  is  life  indeed  to  live 
-  Within  this  Kingdom  strangely  sweet ! 
And  yet  we  fear  to  enter  in, 
And  linger  with  unwilling  leet. 

We  fear  this  wondrous  rule  of  Thine, 

Because  we  have  not  reached  Thy  heart ; 

Not  venturing  our  all  on  Thee, 

We  may  not  know  how  good  Thou  art. 


WORRIES. 

The  little  worries  which  we  meet  each  day 
May  lie  as  stumbling-blocks  across  our  way  ; 
Or  we  may  make  them  stepping-stones  to  be 
Ot  grace,  O  Christ,  to  Thee. 


DYING   DEATHS  DAILY,  35 

*'THAT  LITTLE." 

Tobil  iv   8 

"  What  canst  thou  do  ?"  said  the  oak  to  the 
rtower, 
••  With  thy  little,  balmy  breath, 

And  thy  tender  cheek's  soft  glow, 
And  thy  lile  that  is  but  for  an  hour,— 
What  canst  thou  do,  small  flower, 

For  a  world  that  is  dark  with  woe, 
And  bitter  with  sin  and  death  ?  " 

"Ah!  well  do  T   know,"  sighed  the  bending 
flower, 
••That  my  life  is  humble  and  fleet, 
And  I  sweeten  but  little  space  ; 
Yet  many  the  flow'rets  in  meadow  and  bower. 
And  if  each  maketh  sweet  its  hour, 

And  its  little,  quiet  place, 
Is  not  the  whole  world  sweet  ?  " 

DYING  DEATHS  DAILY. 

Into  a  sorrow-darkened  soul 
A  vision  full  of  peace  there  stole. 


^6  D  YING   DBA  THS  DA/L  K. 

An  Angel  stood  beside  her  way, 
As  forth  she  went  at  dawn  ot  day, 

And  said,  "  O  weary  and  oppressed  ! 
Know  that  at  evening  thou  shalt  rest. 

"The  cross  of  sin,  the  crown  of  thorn, 
The  weight  of  anguish  thou  hast  borne, 

•'  And  e'en  the  sins  thou  hatest,  all 
From  off  thy  weary  soul  shall  fall, 

•'  To  life  and  love  and  peace  restored 
Within  the  presence  of  thy  Lord." 

Then  thankfulness  and  glad  surprise 
Flowed  from  the  sorrow-laden  eyes. 

"With  hope  of  rest  so  near,"  said  she, 
*'  No  sorrow  more  shall  dwell  with  me. 

"No  weight  of  care,  no  shade  of  gloom, 
Can  pass  the  portal  of  the  tomb  ; 

"  And  light  as  air  I'll  urge  my  way. 
Since  burdens  fall  at  close  of  day." 

The  Angel  lingered,  and  a  smile 
Dawned  o'er  his  pitying  face  the  w^hile. 


THE  UNSEEN, 


37 


*•  O  weak  of  heart  and  hope  ! "  he  said, 
"Deem'st  thou  all  peace  is  with  the  dead  ? 

"  Or  that  thy  Lord  can  dwell  more  near 
To  saints  in  bliss  than  toilers  here  ? 

"  If  but  thou  diest  day  by  day 

To  sins  that  clog  thy  homeward  way, 

**  Each  night  shall  be  a  grave  of  care, 
And  morn  a  resurrection  fair, 

*'  And  daily  be  thy  strength  restored 
By  the  dear  presence  of  thy  Lord." 


THE  UNSEEN. 

We  walk  beneath  the  shelter  of  God's  wings. 
While  by  our  pathway  Hope,  His  angel,  sings 
Of  the  unseen  and  everlasting  things. 

She  sings  to  us  of  Heaven,  the  great  Home- 
land, 

And  our  eternal  house,  "  not  made  with 
hand," 

Preparing  for  us  there  by  Christ's  command. 


38  MV  PSALM. 

That    not   as   strangers    shall   we    reach   its 

shore, 
Friendless,  an  unknown  region  to  explore  ; 
Our  Elder  Brother  hath  gone  on  before. 


MY  PSALM. 

I  MOURN  no  more  my  vanished  years : 

Beneath  a  tender  rain. 
An  April  rain  of  smiles  and  tears, 

My  heart  is  young  again. 

The  west  winds  blow,  and  singing  low, 
I  hear  the  glad  streams  run  ; 

The  windows  of  my  soul  I  throw 
Wide  open  to  the  sun. 

No  longer  forward  nor  behind 

I  look  in  hope  or  fear ; 
But,  grateful,  take  the  good  I  find, 

The  best  of  now  and  here. 

I  plough  no  more  a  desert  land, 

To  harvest  weed  and  tare  ; 
The  manna  dropping  from  God's  hand 

Rebukes  my  painful  care. 


MY  PSALM.  39 

I  break  my  pilgrim  staff, — I  lay- 
Aside  the  toiling  oar  ; 

The  angel  sought  so  far  away 
I  welcome  at  my  door. 

The  airs  of  spring  may  never  play 

Among  the  ripening  corn, 
Nor  freshness  of  the  flowers  of  May 

Blow  through  the  autumn  morn  ; 

Yet  shall  the  blue-eyed  gentian  look 
Through  fringed  lids  to  heaven, 

And  the  pale  aster  in  the  brook 
Shall  see  its  image  given  ; — 

The  woods  shall  wear  their  robes  of  praise. 

The  south  wind  softly  sigh, 
And  sweet,  calm  days  in  golden  haze 

Melt  down  the  amber  sky. 

Not  less  shall  manly  deed  and  word 

Rebuke  an  age  of  wrong ; 
The  graven  flowers  that  wreathe  the  sword 

Make  not  the  blade  less  strong. 

But  smiting  hands  shall  learn  to  heal,— 

To  build  as  to  destroy ; 
Nor  less  my  heart  for  others  feel 

That  I  the  more  enjoy. 


40  MV  PSALM. 

All  as  God  wills,  who  wisely  heeds 

To  give  or  to  withhold. 
And  knoweth  more  of  all  my  needs 

Than  all  my  prayers  have  told  ! 

Enough  that  blessings  undeserved 
Have  marked  my  erring  track  ; — 

That  wheresoe'er  my  feet  have  swerved, 
His  chastenings  turned  me  back  ; — 

That  more  and  more  a  providence 

Of  love  is  understood, 
Making  the  springs  of  time  and  sense 

Sweet  with  eternal  good  ; — 

That  death  seems  but  a  covered  way 

Which  opens  into  light, 
Wherein  no  blinded  child  can  stray 

Beyond  the  Father's  sight ; — 

That  care  and  trial  seem  at  last, 
Through  Memory's  sunset  air, 

Like  mountain  ranges  overpast 
In  purple  distance  fair  ;— 

That  all  the  jarring  notes  of  life 

Seem  blending  in  a  psalm, 
And  all  the  angles  of  its  strife 

Slow  rounding  into  calm. 


SAD  AND   SWEET.  41 

And  so  the  shadows  fall  apart, 

And  so  the  west  winds  play ; 
And  all  the  windows  of  my  heart 

I  open  to4he  day. 


SAD  AND  SWEET. 

Sad  is  our  youth,  for  it  is  ever  going, 

Crumbling  away  beneath  our  very  feet; 
Sad  is  our  life,  for  it  is  ever  flowing 

In  current  unperceived,  because  so  fleet; 
Sad   are   our   hopes,  for  they  were  sweet  in 
sowing, 
But   tares   self-sown   have   overtopped    the 
wheat ; 
Sad  are  our  joys,  for  they  were  sweet  in  blow- 
ing,— 
And  still,  oh,  still,  their  dying  breath  is  sweet ! 
And  sweet  is  youth,  although  it  hath  bereft  us 
Of  that  which  made  our  childhood  sweeter 
still ; 
And  sweet  is  middle  life,  for  it  hath  left  us 

A  newer  good  to  cure  an  older  ill  ; 
And   sweet  are  all  things,  when  we  learn  to 

prize  them 
Not  for  their  sake,  but  His,  who  grants  them, 
or  denies  them  ! 


42'  THOU  KNOW  EST  BEST, 


THOU  KNOWEST  BEST. 

It  seems  such  a  woful  waste 

Ot  precious  talent  and  time, 
To  be  lying  here  day  after  day, 

Just  in  my  life's  best  prime, — 
With  such  a  weight  on  my  breast, 

And  such  a  mist  in  my  brain. 
That  I  little  or  nothing  know 

Save  that  living  is  only  pain, — 
When  I  might  be  doing  some  work, 

Or  saying  some  helpful  word, 
To  hasten  Thy  Kingdom  on — 

But  Thou  knowest  best,  O  Lord. 

There  is  so  much  work  to  be  done  !- 

So  many  mouths  to  be  fed, 
So  many  famishing  souls 

Crying  for  living  bread, — 
So  many  little  ones  lost 

In  byways  crooked  and  cold, 
To  be  tenderly  sought,  and  led 

Into  Thy  safe,  sweet  fold  ; — 
It  seems  that  no  willing  hand 

Rejected  should  be  or  ignored, 
Not  even  this  poor  one  of  mine — 

But  Thou  knowest  best,  O  Lord. 


THOU  KNOWEST  BEST.  43 

Worst  of  it  all,  there  is  need 

Of  so  much  labor  within  ! 
Such  deep-down  rootlets  of  ill 

So  subtly  spring  up  into  sin  ! 
It  would  take  my  very  best  powers 

To  crop  them  as  fast  as  they  shoot, 
And  give  to  the  seedlings  of  grace 

Fair  room  for  blossom  and  fruit;  — 
But  closer  bound  with  these  pains 

Than  with  any  chain  or  cord, 
I  count  my  lost  moments  drift  by — 

But  Thou  knowest  best,  O  Lord. 

Thou  knowest  best,  inasmuch 

As  Thou  only  art  wholly  wise ; 
Present  and  Future  and  Past 

Blend  into  one  in. Thine  eyes  ; 
That  which  we  rhiscall  waste 

May  be  only  Thy  mystical  seed, 
Flung  wide  to  make  Harvest-Home  rich, 

And  harvesters  blessed  indeed,^ 
May  be  only  the  wealth  of  Thy  love 

On  an  ignorant  world  outpoured, — 
Ah,  lavish  my  days  as  Thou  wilt, 

For  Thou  knowest  best,  O  Lord  ! 

Thy  purposes  will  not  fail 
Because  of  my  idleness, — 


44        ''OUR   LIGHT  AFFLICTIONS 

The  stars  in  their  courses  fight 

For  the  cause  which  Thou  dost  bless, — 
The  angels  move  at  Thy  word 

Svvifter  than  light  of  sun, — 
And  the  patient  soul  w-orks  best 

When  it  prays,  "  Thy  will  be  done  ! " 
It  may  be  that  never  again 

I  shall  march  with  the  plough  or  the  sword  ; 
It  may  be — No  matter.     Amen  ; 

For  Thou  knowest  best,  O  Lord. 


THE  TWO  TWILIGHTS. 

There  are  two  twilights  unto  every  day — 
Twilight  of  dawn,  and  twilight  of  decay. 

And  likewise  thus  we  find 
Two  twilights  in  the  thinking  of  mankind— 
The  twilight  of  a  seeking  unto  light, 
The  twilight  of  a  doubting  unto  night. 


"OUR  LIGHT  AFFLICTION." 

Lord,    dost    Thou    call    this    our    affliction 

"light?" 
Is  all  this  anguish  little  in  Thy  sight  ? 


|f   UNlVtKOM  I  J 

^'  VTihTSOLITAR  V  PLA  CESr         4  5 

"Child!  bring  thy  balance  out.     Put  in  one 
scale  / 

All  thine  afflictions  ;  give  them  in  full  tale ; 
All  thy  bereavements,  grievances,  and  fears  ; 
Then  add  the  utmost  limit  of  man's  years. 
Now,  put  My  Cross  into  the  other  side, 
That  which  1  suffered  when  1  lived  and  died." 

I  cannot.  Lord  ;  it  is  beyond  my  might ; 
And,  lo  !  my  sorrows  are  gone  out  of  sight 

"  Then  try  another  way.     Put  in  the  scale 
The  Glory  now  unseen,  behind  the   veil; 
The  glory  given  to  thine  own  estate  ; 
Use  that  'exceeding  and  eternal  weight.* 
Which  kicks  the  beam  ?" 

Ah,  Lord,  Thy  word  is  right; 
Thus  weighed,  my  sorrow  doth  indeed   seem 
"li2:ht." 


"THE    SOLITARY    PLACES    SHALL    BE 
GLAD." 

How  will  He  make  us  glad  ? 

How  is  that  promise  sweet  to  be  fulfilled. 

So  that  our  sad. 

Our  aching  hearts  be  stilled? 


46  ACCEPTED    TIMES. 

Will  He  a  glory  shed 
O'er  the  waste  places  of  our  lonely  days, 
That  our  bowed  head 
We  can  in  triumph  raise? 

Or  will  there  gently  steal 
A  subtle  peace  and  stillness  o'er  our  life, — 
O'er  woe  and  weal, — 
A  hushing  of  all  strife  ; — 

A  calm  that  naught  can  break, — 
A  tender  trustfulness  that  can  be  "  glad," — 
That  joy  can  take 
Through  good  days  and  through  bad  ;- 

A  tender  twilight-calm  ; — 
Such  as  one  sees  in  far-off  Northern  days, 
That  seems  a  psalm 
Of  perfect,  peaceful  praise  ? 


ACCEPTED  TIMES. 

There  are  immortal  moments  in  each  life; 

They  come  and  go, — 
One  scarce  may  of  their  presence  know, 
.Yet  in  them  there  is  struck  a  chord. 
It  may  be  loud,  it  may  be  low, 


ISAIAH  XXVI.  J.  47 

Of  peace  or  strife, 

Of  love  or  hate, 

Which  will  vibrate, 
Like  circles  from  a  pebble's  throw 
Unto  the  coming  of  the  Lord. 


ISAIAH  XXVI.  3. 

O  SWEET  and  wondrous  promise! 

O  Peace  that  passeth  thought ! 
By  God's  exceeding  goodness 

In  trustful  spirits  wrought ! 
How  doth  all  earthly  pleasure, 

How  doth  all  earthly  rest, 
Sink  into  less  than  nothing 

Beside  that  Heavenly  guest ! 

No  clouds  of  care  that  gather, 

No  waves  of  sin  that  toss, 
No  blasts  of  desolation, 

No  blight,  no  strife,  no  loss, 
Shall  break  the  mystic  circle 

Of  that  enshrining  peace 
Which  'round  the  steadfast  spirit 

Doth  grow,  and  doth  not  cease. 


48  A    SUPPLICATION, 

0  rare  and  gracious  promise ! 

0  Peace,  of  love  the  sign  ! 

1  long  to  taste  thy  sweetness, 

1  long  to  call  thee  mine. 
Descend,  O  Dove  of  Heaven, 

O  birth-pangs,  do  not  cease, 
Till  in  my  chastened  spirit 
Is  born  that  Perfect  Peace  ! 


A  SUPPLICATION. 

O  WAY  for  all  that  live!  heal  us  by  pain  and 
loss ; 
Fill  all  our  years  with  toil,  and  bless  us  with 
thy  rod. 
Thy  bonds    bring  wider  freedom  ;    climbing, 
by  the  cross. 
Wins  that  brave  height  where  looms  the  city 
of  our  God  ! 

Hallow   our   wit   with   prayer :    our   mastery 
steep  in  meekness  ; 
Pour  on  our  study  inspiration's  holy  light : 
Hew  out,  for  Christ's  dear  Church,  a  Future 
without  weakness, 
Quarried  from  thine  Eternal  Beauty,  Order, 
Might ! 


A    SUPPLICATION.  49 

Met,  there,   mankincrs  great   Brotherhood  of 
Souls  and  Powers, 
Raise  thou  full  praises  from  its  farthest  cor- 
ners dim  ; 
Pour  down,  O  Steadfast  Sun,  thy  beams  on  all 
its  powers  ; 
Roll  through  its  world-wide  spaces  Faith's 
majestic  hymn. 

Come,  age  of  God's  own   Truth,   after  man's 
age  of  fables ! 
Seed  sown  in  Eden,  yield  the  nations'  heal- 
ing tree  ! 
Ebal  and  Sinai,   Mamre's   tents,  the  Hebrew 
tables. 
All  look  towards  Olivet,  and  bend  to  Calvary. 

Fold  of  the  tender  Shepherd  !  rise  and  spread  ! 
Arch   o'er  our   frailty  roofs   of  everlasting 
strength ! 
Be  all  the  Body  gathered  to  its  living  Head  ! 
Wanderers  we  faint :  O,  let  us  find  our  Lord 
at  leno:th ! 


50  THE  DECEITFUL   HEART. 


THE  DECEITFUL  HEART. 

"  Would'st  thou  glance 

Into  the  dark  depths  of  a  human  heart 

One  moment?"       And  Christ   set    nifc   in    a 

trance, 
Opening  my  eyes  to  see, 

While  at  His  word  the  gates  flew  wide  apart. 
I  entered  and  essayed  to  advance, 
But  quickly  I  drew  back  with  sudden  start, 
Chilled  with  the  coldness  of  its  vaults  of  sin, 

And  all  I  saw  within. 
There 
Envy,  hatred,  malice,  pride,  i 

Had  each  their  altars  ranged  on  every  side. 
To  Self,  the  selfsame  idol  everywhere  ; 
While  through  the  cobwebbed  windows  light 

divine 
Struggled  to  shine. 

••  Ah,  Lord  !"  I  cried, 
••  Surely  this  heart  a  heathen's  heart  must  be — 
One  who  has  never  heard  of  Thee." 
With  agony  I  learned  that  it  was  mine. 

I  fled  away, 
O  erwhelmed  with  sorrow  and  despair. 
To  breathe  a  purer  air  ; 


GROWING,  51 

But  in  its  dismal  room 

The  Christ  would  stay;  — 

He  shrani<  not  even  from  this  whited  tomb, 

And  it  became  His  temple  from  that  day. 


GROWING. 

Unto  him  that  hath,  Thou  givest 

Ever  •'  more  abundantly." 
Lord,  I  live  because  Thou  livest, 

Therefore  give  more  life  to  me ; 
Therefore  speed  me  in  the  race, 
Therefore  let  me  grow  in  grace. 

Deepen  all  Thy  work,  O  Master, 
Strengthen  every  downward  root ; 

Only  do  Thou  ripen  faster. 

More  and  more.  Thy  pleasant  fruit. 

Purge  me,  prune  me,  self  abase, 

Only  let  me  grow  in  grace. 

Jesus,  grace  for  grace  outpouring, 
Show  me  ever  greater  things  ; 

Raise  me  higher,  sunward  soaring, 
Mounting  as  on  eagle-wings. 

By  the  brightness  of  Thy  face, 

Jesus,  let  me  grow  in  grace. 


52  THE  NAME   OF  JESUS. 

Let  me  grow  by  sun  and  shower, 
Every  moment  water  me  ; 

Make  me  really  hour  by  hour 

More  and  more  conformed  to  Thee, 

That  Thy  loving  eye  may  trace, 

Day  by  day,  my  growth  in  grace. 

Let  me,  then,  be  always  growing, 
Never,  never  standing  still  ; 

Listening,  learning,  better  knowing 
Thee  and  Thy  most  blessed  will, — 

Till  I  reach  Thy  holy  place. 

Daily  let  me  grow  in  grace. 


THE  NAME  OF  JESUS. 

One  Name  alone  in  all  this  death-struck  earth, 
One   Name   alone    come  down  from    highest 

Heaven, 
Whence  healing  and  salvation  we  receive. 
To  sinful  man  is  given. 

Name  brought  by  Gabriel   from  the  heart  of 

God, 
And  laid  like  flower-seed  in  the  adoring  breast 
Of  her  in  whom  the  mystery  was  wrought, 
And  God  made  manifest. 


THE  NAME   OF  JESUS.  53 

O  Name  of  Jesus  ! — of  that  lowly  Babe, 
That  on  the  sunny  slopes  of  Nazareth  strayed. 
Or,  calm  and  silent  on  the  cottage  floor, 
With  wild  flowers  played  ; 


Name  of  the  wondrous  Child,  that  in  the  tem- 
ple stood, 
With  brow  all  meekness,  and  with  eye  all  light, 
Who  to  the  blinded  teachers  of  the  Law 
Would  have  given  sight ; 

Name  of  the  Prophet,  Healer,  Master,  Friend, 
Death's  mighty  Vanquisher,  and  sorrow's  Cure, 
The  Fountain  of  new  innocence  for  man, 
That  ever  shall  endure  ; 


The  secret,  the  unutterable  Name, 
From  the  world's  earlier  ages  hid  so  long, 
Now  in  time's  fulness  given  at  length  to  be 
The  new  creation's  song  ; — 


O  Name  of  value  infinite  !  and  yet 
Thou  mov'st  our  spirits  with  a  deeper  thrill, 
For  the  dear  lips  that  have  Thy  music  breathed, 
And  then  grown  still. 


54  THE  NAME   OF  JESUS. 

For  Thou  the  last  gift  art  our  lost  ones  leave, 
To  be  our  comfort  on  our  onward  way  ; 
"  Love  Jesus,"  "  Jesus  is  our  only  hope," 
Adoringly  they  say. 

As   shipwrecked   sailors    grasp   an   oar,   and 

launch 
Upon  the  billows  of  a  midnight  sea, 
These  fearless  souls,  embracing  Jesus,  plunge 
Into  Eternity ; 

Then,  safely  floated  to  the  Home  of  peace. 
Where  the  bright  plumed  angels  throng  the 

shore. 
Still,  still  the  Name  of  Jesus  those  glad  hosts 
In  anthems  pour. 

Name  that  the  ransomed  souls  forever  wear, 
Gemmed    with    pure   lustre   on   each    perfect 

brow. 
Be  Thou  the  radiance  of  our  earthly  lives ; 
Transform  us  even  now. 

O  Name  above  all  names  the  most  beloved ! 
Fullest  of  memories,  and  of  untold  peace, 
Earnest  of  all  unutterable  joys  ! — 
Yet,  fond  heart,  cease  ; 


T/^!ANSVEk\SE  AXD  PARALLEL.     55 

For  Jesus  is  the  Name  of  the  High  God  ; 
Hushed  be  thy  thoughts,  and  silently  adore  ! 
When  thou  shalt  come  to  see  Him  as  He  is, 
Thou  shalt  know  more. 


THE  WITHERED  LEAF. 

I  WATCHED  a  withered  leaf  borne  high 
Upon  the  wild  wind's  breath  ; 

Though  upward  tossed  towards  the  sky, 
It  still  remained  a  thing  of  death. 

On  wind  of  feeling  highly  wrought, 

On  wind  of  intellectual  thought, 

We  unto  Christ  may  nigh  be  brought, 
A  moment  brief, 

And  yet  our  hearts  continue  dead 
As  that  careering  withered  leaf, 

On  that  autumnal  evening  red. 


TRANSVERSE  AND  PARALLEL. 

Dear  Lord,  my  will  from  Thine  doth  run 

Too  oft  a  different  way  ; 
I  cannot  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done," 

In  every  darkened  day  ; 


56     TRANSVERSE  AND  PARALLEL. 

My  heart  grows  chill 
To  see  Thy  will 
Turn  all  earth's  gold  to  gray. 

My  will  is  set  to  gather  flowers, 

Thine  blights  them  in  my  hand  ; 
Mine  reaches  for  life's  sunny  hours, 
Thine  leads  through  shadow-land  ; 
And  all  my  days 
Go  on  in  ways 
I  cannot  understand. 

Yet  more  and  more  this  truth  doth  shine 

From  failure  and  from  loss, — 
The  will  that  runs  transverse  to  Thine 
Doth  thereby  make  its  cross  ; 
Thine  upright  will 
Cuts  straight  and  still 
Through  pride,  and  dream,  and  dross. 

But  if  in  parallel  to  Thine 

My  will  doth  meekly  run, 
All  things  in  heaven  and  earth  are  mine, 
My  will  is  crossed  by  none. 
Thou  art  in  me, 
And  I  in  Thee, — 
Thy  will — and  mine— are  done  ! 


£>AV  BV  £>AV.  57 


DAY  BY  DAY. 

Every  day  has  its  dawn, 

Its  soft  and  silent  eve, 
Its  noontide  hours  of  bliss  or  bale  ; — 

Why  should  we  grieve  ? 

Why  do  we  heap  huge  mounds  of  years 

Before  us  and  behind, 
And  scorn  the  little  days  that  pass 

Like  angels  on  the  wind, 

Each  turning  round  a  small  sweet  face 

As  beautiful  as  near? 
Because  it  is  so  small  a  face 

We  will  not  see  it  clear ; 

We  will  not  clasp  it  as  it  flies. 

And  kiss  its  lips  and  brow ; 
We  will  not  bathe  our  weary  souls 

In  its  delicious  Now, 

And  so  it  turns  from  us,  and  goes 

Away  in  sad  disdain  ; 
Though  we  would  give  our  lives  for  it. 

It  never  comes  again. 


58  YOUR  MISSION. 

Yet,  every  day  has  its  dawn, 

Its  noontide  and  its  eve  ; 
Live  while  we  live,  giving  God  thanks — 

He  will  not  let  us  grieve. 

THE  VIOLETS. 

As  I  was  gathering  violets  in  the  snow, 
Methought  how  often,  when  the  heart  is  low, 

And  Nature  grieves, 
The  buds  of  simple  faith  will  meekly  blow 

'Neath  frosted  leaves. 

YOUR  MISSION. 

If  you  cannot  on  the  ocean 

Sail  among  the  swiftest  fleet. 
Rocking  on  the  highest  billows, 

Laughing  at  the  storms  you  meet, — 
You  can  stand  among  the  sailors 

Anchored  yet  within  the  bay, 
You  can  lend  a  hand  to  help  them 

As  they  launch  their  boats  away. 

If  you  are  too  weak  to  journey 
Up  the  mountains  steep  and  high, 

You  can  stand  within  the  valley 
While  the  multitude  go  by  ; 


THE  CROSS. 

You  can  chant  a  happy  measure 
As  they  slowly  pass  along, — 

Though  they  may  forget  the  singer, 
They  may  not  forget  the  song. 

If  you  cannot  in  the  conflict 

Prove  yourself  a  soldier  true, 
If  where  smoke  and  fire  are  thickest 

There's  no  work  for  you  to  do  ; 
When  the  battle-field  is  silent, 

You  can  go  with  careful  tread, 
You  can  bear  away  the  wounded. 

You  can  cover  up  the  dead. 

Do  not  then  stand  idly  waiting 

For  some  greater  work  to  do  ; 
Fortune  is  a  fickle  goddess, 

She  v^mII  never  come  to  you. 
Go  and  toil  in  any  vineyard, — 

Do  not  fear  to  do  and  dare  ; 
If  you  want  a  field  of  labor. 

You  can  find  it  anywhere. 

THE  CROSS. 

Sink  in,  thou  blessed  sign! 

Pass  all  my  spirit  through. 
And  sever  with  thy  sacred  touch 

The  hollow  from  the  true. 


59 


6o  THE  CROSS. 

Sorrow  shall  wear  thy  badge 

As  her  fair  sign  of  hope  ; 
No  self-indulgent  voice  may  say 

That  grief  may  have  full  scope. 

Sickness  shall  own  thy  sway, 
With  steadfast,  patient  eye, — 

Thoughtful  for  others,  who  must  bear 
The  weight  of  sympathy. 

Thou  shalt  restrain  my  soul 

'Mid  the  world's  tempting  gloss  ; 

Schemes,  memories,  wishes,  all  must  feel 
The  burden  of  the  Cross. 

The  understanding  high  ^ 

Shall  bow  beneath  thy  might, 

Relinquishing  its  vain  attempt 
To  gauge  the  Infinite. 

Through  my  heart's  very  ground 
Thy  ploughshare  must  be  driven  ; 

Till  all  are  better  loved  than  self, 
And  yet  less  loved  than  Heaven. 

And  my  impatient  will 

Under  Thy  yoke  shall  learn 

How  to  be  constant  to  one  end. 
Yet  yield  at  every  turn. 


WINGS.  6 1 

On  vanity  and  sin 

Stamp  thy  broad  bars  of  shame  ; 
High  was  my  birthright,  but  my  Hfe 

Deserves  no  meed  but  blame. 

Draw  thy  clear  cutting  Hnes 

In  scorn  above  my  pride, 
And  l<eep  me,  with  meek  wounded  heart, 

Close  to  the  Crucified* 

Oh !  can  it,  must  it  be, 

That  thou  wilt  rule  all  thus  ? 
The  cross  to  Jesus  was  no  dream : 

Shall  it  be  so  to  us  ? 


WINGS. 

O  THAT  my  soul  had  wings  !  we  sighing  cry. 

What  wings  ?     The  dove's,  to   hover  round 
our  nest 
On  sweet  love-errands  ?     Eagle  wings,  to  fly 

To  glory's  mountain -crest  ? 

Or  angel  wings,  to  speed  on  tasks  of  heaven  ? 

Ah  !  when  God's  work  demands  increase  of 
powers, 
The  wider  range  and  freer  flight  is  given, 

If  such  a  task  be  ours  ; 


62  ''COMPLETE  IN  HI  Mr 

But  wings  to  fly  away  and  be  at  rest 

He  giveth  not ;  for  whither  should  we  go  ? 

Away  from  duly,  on  an  endless  quest, 
Across  a  sea  of  woe  ? 

The  fretting  friction  of  our  daily  life, 

Heart  -  weariness     with      loving     patience 
borne, 

The  meek  endurance  of  the  inward  strife, 
The  painful  crown  of  thorn, 

Prepare  the  heart    for  God's    own    dwelling- 
place. 

Adorn  with  sacred  loveliness  His  shrine; 
And  brighten  every  inconspicuous  grace, 

For  God  alone  to  shine. 


"COMPLETE  IN  HIM." 

Unstable  waves  grow  firm   below  Christ's 
feet. 
The  wilderness  doth  blossom  as  the  rose  ; 
These  He  doth  soften  with  His  mercy  sweet. 
Strengthening  the  weak  and   feeble  will  of 
those. 

In  Him  we  find 
The  lacking  power  of  every  frame  of  mind, 
In  whom  "  we  are  complete.'' 


LIFE'S  HISTORY.  (^'^ 

LIFE'S  HISTORY, 

"  Be  inercifnl,  O  God,  ujifo  Thy  people  "—Dent.  xxi.  8. 

Like  flowing  streams  our  years  go  by, 

Like  filmy  smoke  our  days  ; 
Between  the  solemn  earth  and  sky 

We  run  our  thoughtless  ways. 
We  dream  of  joy,  we  toil  for  gold, 

We  laugh,  love,  strive,  and  hate ; 
Our  faces,  'neath  the  quiet  mould. 

Are  heavenward  turned  — too  late. 
Be  merciful,  O  God  ! 

Ere  evil  we  can  know  from  good, 

Or  right  from  wrong  undo. 
By  mother's  milk,  by  father's  blood, 

The  evil  taints  us  through. 
The  sins,  the  passions,  of  their  past 

Our  earliest  steps  control. 
And  in  our  weakness  bind  us  fast. 

Body  and  brain  and  soul. 
Be  merciful,  O  God  ! 

Thus  fettered,  forth  we  go  to  meet 

A  foe  on  every  hand, — 
A  foe  close-veiled  in  soft  deceit, — 

Smiling,  and  smooth,  and  bland ;— 


64  LIFE'S  HISTORY. 

A  foe  that  steals  our  inmost  heart 
With  warm  and  kind  embrace, 

Till  soon  or  late  the  maskings  part, 
And  show  the  mocking  face. 
Be  merciful,  O  God! 

So  easy,  too,  the  downward  way  ! 

So  ready  to  our  feet ! 
So  golden-lined  with  sunbeams  gay, 

And  promises  most  sweet! 
For  evil  meets  us  everywhere, — 

In  daily  deed  and  thought, 
In  church  and  mart,  in  hymn  and  prayer, — 

The  good  must  still  be  sought. 
Be  mercitul,  O  God  ! 

Beside  all  waters  do  we  sow, 

And  little  reap  but  pain  ; 
Our  weary  souls  "  an-hungered  "  go 

Among  the  blighted  grain, — 
Our  hungry  souls  are  parched  with  thirst 

Beside  the  failing  springs  ; 
And  all  the  radiant  hopes  we  nursed 

Depart  on  lessening  wings. 
Be  merciful,  O  God  ! 

Yet,  slowly,  slowly,  day  by  day, 
We  something  learn  from  loss  ; 

From  some  sweet  snares  we  turn  away, 
We  half-way  lift  some  cross. 


THE  RANSOM,  ^5 

Illusions  one  by  one  outworn 

Drop  trom  before  our  eyes  ; 
And  hands  by  thorns  recurrent  torn 

We  lift  up  to  the  skies. 

Be  merciful,  O  God! 

So,  daily,  nature's  weeds  grow  less, 

The  plants  of  grace  grow  strong  ; 
Some  sweets  we  wring  from  bitterness,-—' 

We  cry,  "  O  Lord,  how  long  !  " 
We  lift  our  eyes  up  to  the  hills, 

We  clasp  the  Holy  Rood  ; 
Thy  peace  like  Heavenly  dew  distils, — 

We  know  that  thou  art  good 
And  merciful,  O  God  ! 


THE  RANSOM. 

Christ  did  not  send. 
But  came  Himself  to  save; 
The  ransom  price  He  did  not  lend, 
But  gave. 
Christ  died,  the  shepherd  for  the  sheep  ; 
We  only  fall  asleep. 

5 


66  LOVE  AND  DISCIPLINE. 


LOVE  AND  DISCIPLINE. 

Since  in  a  land  not  barren  still, 
Because  Thou  dost  Thy  grace  distil, 
My  lot  is  fall'n,  blest  be  Thy  will  ! 

And  since  these  biting  frosts  but  kill 
Some  tares  in  me  which  choke  or  spill 
That  seed  Thou  sow'st,  blest  be  ThyskilU 

Blest  be  Thy  dew,  and  blest  Thy  frost, 

And  happy  I  to  be  so  crost, 

And  cured  by  crosses  at  Thy  cost. 

The  dew  doth  cheer  what  is  distrest. 
The  frosts  ill  weeds  nip  and  molest. 
In  both  Thou  work'st  unto  the  best. 

Thus  while  Thy  several  mercies  plot, 
And  work  on  me, — now  cold,  now  hot,— 
The  work  goes  on,  and  slacketh  not ; 

For  as  Thy  hand  the  weather  steers, 
So  thrive  I  best  'twixt  joys  and  tears. 
And  all  the  year  have  some  green  ears. 


THE  PATH  THROUGH  THE  SNOW, 

Bare  and  sunshiny,  bright  and  bleak, 
Rounded  cold  as  a  dead  maid's  cheek, 
Folded  white  as  a  sinner's  shroud, 
Or  wandering  angel's  robes  of  cloud, — 

Well  I  know,  well  I  know 
Over  the  fields  the  path  through  the  snow. 

Narrow  and  rough  it  lies  between 

Wastes  where  the  wind  sweeps,  biting  keen  ; 

Every  step  of  the  slippery  road 

Marks  where  some  weary  foot  has  trod  ; 

Who'll  go,  who'll  go 
After  the  rest  on  the  path  through  the  snow  ? 

6-' 


6S    THE  PATH  THROUGH  THE  SNOW 

They  who  would  tread  it  must  walk  alone, 
Silent  and  steadfast — one  by  one. 
Dearest  to  dearest  can  only  say, 
*'  My  heart,  I'll  follow  thee  all  the  way, 

As  we  go,  as  we  go, 
Each   after   each   on    this   path    through  the 
snow." 

It  may  be  under  that  western  haze 
Lurks  the  omen  of  brighter  days  ; 
That  each  sentinel  tree  is  quivering 
Deep  at  its  core  with  the  sap  of  spring. 
And  while  we  go,  while  we  go. 
Green  grass-blades  pierce  through  the  glitter- 
ing snow. 

It  may  be  the  unknown  path  will  tend 
Never  to  any  earthly  end, 
Die  with  the  dying  day  obscure, 
And  never  lead  to  a  human  door; 

That  none  know  who  did  go 
Patiently  once  on  this  path  through  the  snow. 

No  matter,  no  matter !  the  path  shines  plain  ; 
Those  pure  snow-crystals  will  deaden  pain  ; 
Above,  like  stars  in  the  deep  blue  dark. 
Eyes  that  love  us  look  down  and  mark  ; — 

Let  us  go,  let  us  go. 
Whither  Heaven   leads  in   the  path  through 
the  snow. 


OUR  MASTER.  69 


AS  THOU  WILT. 

It  is  so  sweet  to  live 

My  little  life  to-day, 
That  I  would  never  leave  it,  if 

I  might  forever  stay  ! — 

I  sometimes  say. 

I  am  so  weary,  Lord, 

I  would  lie  down  for  aye. 
Could  I  but  hear  Thee  speak  the  word : 

"  Thy  sins  are  washed  away  !  " — 

I  sometimes  say. 

The  better  mood  that  lies 

These  moods  between  midway, 

Comes  softly,  and  I  lift  mine  eyes  : 
**  Lord,  as  Thou  wilt !  "  I  pray  ; 
And  would  alway. 


OUR  MASTER. 

O  Lord  and  Master  of  us  all ! 

Whate'er  our  name  or  sign, 
We  own  Thy  sway,  we  hear  Thy  call, 

We  test  our  lives  by  Thine. 


70  OUR  MASTER. 

Thou  judgest  us  ;  Thy  purity- 
Doth  all  our  lusts  condemn  ; 

The  love  that  draws  us  nearer  Thee 
Is  hot  with  wrath  to  them. 

Our  thoughts  lie  open  to  Thy  sight ; 

And,  naked  to  Thy  glance, 
Our  secret  sins  are  in  the  light 

Of  Thy  pure  countenance. 

Thy  healing  pains  ;  a  keen  distress 

Thy  tender  light  shines  in  ; 
Thy  sweetness  is  the  bitterness, 

Thy  grace  the  pang,  of  sin. 

Yet,  weak  and  blinded  though  we  be, 

Thou  dost  our  service  own  ; 
We  bring  our  varied  gifts  to  Thee, 

And  Thou  rejectest  none. 

To  Thee  our  full  humanity, — 

Its  joys  and  pains  belong  ; 
The  wrong  of  man  to  man  on  Thee 

Inflicts  a  deeper  wrong. 

Who  hates,  hates  Thee;  who  loves,  becomes 

Therein  to  Thee  allied  ; 
All  sweet  accords  of  hearts  and  homes 

In  Thee  are  multiplied. 


THE  LO  WEST  FLAiOE.  71 

Deep  strike  Thy  roots,  O  heavenly  vine, 

Within  our  earthly  sod,^ — 
Most  human  and  yet  most  divine, 

The  flower  of  man  and  God  ! 


THE  LOWEST  PLACE. 

Not  to  be  first ;  how  hard  to  learn 
That  lifelong  lesson  of  the  Past ; 

Line  graven  on  line  and  stroke  on  stroke ; 
But,  thank  God,  learned  at  last ! 

So  now  in  patience  I  possess 
My  soul  year  after  tedious  year, 

Content  to  take  the  lov/est  place. 
The  place  assigned  me  here. 

Yet  sometimes,  when  I  feel  my  strength 
Most  weak,  and  life  most  burdensome, 

I  lift  mine  eyes  up  to  the  hills 

From  whence  my  help  shall  come. 

Yea,  sometimes  still  I  lift  my  heart 
To  the  Archangel's  trumpet-burst. 

When  all  deep  secrets  shall  be  shown, 
And  many  last  be  first. 


TIME'S  THREEFOLD  ASPECT, 


TIME'S  THREEFOLD  ASPECT. 

Sing,  O  sighing  Heart ! 

Time  is  marching  on  ! — 
O'er  the  frost  and  o'er  the  snow, 
O'er  the  river's  ice-bound  flow, 

Time  is  marching  on  ! 
Decking  barren  boughs  with  flowers, 
Bringing  bird-songs  to  the  bowers, 
Gold-embroidering  the  hours, — 

Time  is  marching  on  ! 

Sigh,  O  singing  Heart! 

Time  is  marching  on  ! 
O'er  the  sunbeam's  golden  glo\y. 
O'er  the  river's  rippling  flow, 

Time  is  marching  on  ! 
Buds  and  promises  he  breaks, 
Green  and  ripened  fruit  he  takes, 
Down  the  hoary  frost  he  shakes, — 

Time  is  marching  on  I 

Sing  not,  sigh  not.  Heart ! 

Time  is  marching  on  ! 
Neither  pains  nor  pleasures  stay. 
Work  while  it  is  called  To-Day, — 

Time  is  marching  on  ! 


MY   SHIPS. 


73 


Gloom  of  eve  brings  gold  of  dawning, 
Night  of  death  shall  be  life's  morning, — 
Take  the  comfort — heed  the  warning — 
Time  is  marching  on  ! 


THE  STREAM  AND  THE  ROCK. 

O  STREAM  of  love  ! 

If  thou  should'st  come  upon  a  rock  of  hate. 

Rippling  around  it  softly  move, 

And  wait 

Till  by  the  rains  of  grace  from  heaven  fed. 

Thou  shalt  thy  waves  of  mercy  o'er  it  spread  ! 


MY  SHIPS. 

All  my  ships  are  out  at  sea ; 

And  the  harbors  empty  lie, 

Desolate  beneath  the  eye, 
While  the  waves  so  fresh  and  free 
Toss  my  ships  upon  the  sea. 

And  I  know  not  which  are  lost, 
Buried  deeply  in  the  sand  ; 
Neither  know  I  which  will  land 
Worn  and  altered,  tempest-toss'd, — 
Mine — thous^h  dear  has  been  the  cost. 


74  MV  SHIPS. 

Sailing,  sailing,  year  by  year, — 
Some  whose  value  was  but  small 
Now  are  prized  before  them  all, 
Now  have  grown  to  be  most  dear, — ■ 
To  my  heart  of  hearts  most  dear. 

Some  on  which  I  counted  most, 
Deeply  laden  went  to  sea  ; 
But  they  come  not  back  to  me, — 
So  I  fear  me  they  are  lost, 
Stranded  on  some  alien  coast. 

Could  I  stretch  a  saving  hand 

To  the  ones  I  hold  most  dear, 

I  would  keep  it  back  in  fear  ; 

I  would  wait  for  them  to  land,        , 

Standing  watching  on  the  strand. 

For  my  ships  are  not  all  mine ; 
One  by  one  they  came  to  me. 
Sailing  slowly  o'er  the  sea; 
One  by  one,  in  rain  or  shine. 
Find  I  which  are  His,  which  mine. 

So  I  know  that  I  must  wait 
Humbly  still  and  patiently 
For  my  ships  to  come  from  sea, — 
One  by  one,  or  soon,  or  late. 
Sailing  through  the  Golden  Gate. 


ISAIAH  LL  12.  75 


ISAIAH  LI.    12. 

Sweet  is  the  solace  of  Thy  love, 
My  Heavenly  Friend,  to  me, 

While  through  the  hidden  way  of  faith 
I  journey  home  vy^ith  Thee, — 

Learning-  by  quiet  thankfulness 
As  a  dear  child  to  be. 

Though  from  the  shadow  of  Thy  peace 

My  feet  would  often  stray. 
Thy  mercy  follows  all  my  steps, 

And  will  not  turn  away, 
Yea,  Thou  wilt  comfort  me  at  last. 

As  none  beneath  Thee  may. 

Oft  in  a  dark  and  lonely  place, 
I  hush  my  hastened  breath, 

To  hear  the  comfortable  words 
Thy  loving  Spirit  saith, 

And  feel  my  safety  in  Thy  hand 
From  every  kind  of  death. 

Oh,  there  is  nothing  in  the  world 
To  weigh  against  Thy  will ; 


76  "/  AM    THAT  I  A  Mr 

Even  the  dark  times  I  dread  the  most 

Thy  covenant  fulfil ; 
And  when  the  pleasant  morning  davv^ns, 

I  find  Thee  with  me  still. 

Then  in  the  secret  of  my  soul, 
Though  hosts  my  peace  invade, 

Though  through  a  waste  and  weary  land 
My  lonely  way  be  made. 

Thou,  even  Thou,  wilt  comfort  me — 
1  need  not  be  afraid. 

Still  in  the  solitary  place 

I  would  awhile  abide. 
Till  with  the  solace  of  Thy  love 

My  heart  is  satisfied  ; 
And  all  my  hopes  of  happiness 

Stay  calmly  at  Thy  side. 


"  I  AM  THAT  I  AM." 

"  Tell  them  I  am,"  Jehovah  said 

To  Moses,  while  earth  shook  with  dread  ; 

And,  smitten  to  the  heart. 
At  once,  above,  beneath,  around. 
All  Nature,  without  voice  or  sound. 

Replied, — "  O  Lord,  THOU  ART  !  " 


TJVO  AND   ONE. 

TWO   AND  ONE. 

The  Flesh. 

O  WEARY  burden,  ever  borne 

Through  rough  and  thorny  ways ! 

O  hope  and  faith,  wellnigh  outworn, 
So  late  ye  turn  to  praise  ! 

When  shall  some  little  touch  of  joy 
Crown  all  these  toilsome  days ! 

The  Spirit. 

O  foolish  heart,  see'st  thou  no  sweet 
In  bitter  things  concealed  ? 

The  thorns  keep  in  thy  wandering  feet, 
The  burden  is  thy  shield. 

And  is  there  not  the  **  glory  "  yet 
In  heaven  to  be  revealed  ? 

The  Flesh. 

Ah,  me !  the  way  is  overlong, 

The  glory  overfar  ! 
In  tolling,  I  forget  hope's  song. 

In  climbing,  lose  faith's  star  ! 
So  far  removed  those  future  joys  ! 

So  near  my  sorrows  are  ! 


n 


78  SEEING  JESUS. 

The  Spirit. 

No  joy  so  far  as  Christ  from  woes 
That  scorn  His  healing  grace ! 

No  grief  so  near  as  Christ  to  those 
Who  humbly  seek  His  face ! 

No  toil  too  great  to  win  at  last 
At  His  right  hand  a  place ! 

Both. 

So  blind  we  are, — oh,  give  us  sight! 

So  weak, — oh,  make  us  strong  ! 
Touch  all  our  dark  with  heavenly  light, 

Our  lips  with  trustful  song  ; — 
So  shall  no  labor  seem  too  hard. 

No  way — to  Thee — too  long  ! 


SEEING  JESUS. 

We  would  see  Jesus !  we  have  longed  to  see 
Him 
Since  first  the  story  of  His  love  was  told  ; 
We  would  that  He  might  sojourn  now  among 
us, 
As  once  He  sojourned  with  the  Jews  of  old. 


SEEING  JESUS.  79 

We  would  see  Jesus  !  see  the  infant  sleeping, 
As  on   our   mother's    knees   we,   too,   have 
slept ; 
We  would  see  Jesus  !  see  Him  gently  weep- 
ing, 
As  we,  in  infancy,  ourselves  have  wept. 

We  would  behold  Him,  as  He  wandered 
lowly, — 

No  room  for  Him,  too  often,  in  the  inn,— 
Behold  that  life,  the  beautiful,  the  holy, 

The  only  sinless  in  this  world  of  sin. 

We  would  see  Jesus !  we  would  have  Him 
with  us, 

A  guest  beloved  and  honored  at  our  board  ; 
How  blessed  were  our  bread  if  it  were  broken 

Before  the  sacred  presence  of  the  Lord  ! 

We  would  see  Jesus  !    we  would  have  Him 
with  us, 
Friend  of  our  households  and  our  children 
dear, — 
Who  still,  should  Death   and   Sorrow   come 
among  us, 
Would  hasten  to  us,  and  would  touch  the 
bier. 


8o  THE   VALLEY   OF  DEATH. 

We  would  see  Jesus  !  not  alone  in  sorrow, 
But  we  would    have   Him   with  us  in  our 
mirth ; 
He,  at  Whose  right  hand  there  are  joys  for- 
ever, 
Doth  not  disdain  to  bless  the  joys  of  earth. 

We  would  see  Jesus !  but  the  wish  is  faith- 
less ; 
Thou  still  art  with  us,  who  hast  loved    us 
well  ; 
Thy  blessed  promise,  **  I  am  with  you  always," 
Is  ever  faithful,  O  Immanuel ! 


THE  VALLEY  OF  DEATH. 

I  HAVE  made  Thee  my  choice, 

O  Jesus  divine ; 
And  my  heart  shall  rejoice, 
Thy  love  it  is  mine, 

Though  I  walk  in  the  darkness, 
And  walk  to  my  death. 

My  soul,  like  a  fountain, 
Springs  upward  to  Thee  : 


CHILD  ON  JUDGMENT-SEAT.         8 1 

And  I  on  the  mountain 
Of  Zion  would  be. 

But  I  stand  in  the  valley 
The  Valley  of  Death  ! 

Descend,  angels,  this  hour. 

Through  storm-clouds  that  roll ; 
As  a  little  white  flower 
Come  gather  my  soul ; 

Bear  it  up  on  your  pinions, 
The  swift  wings  of  death. 

My  full  heart  is  yearning, 

A  censer  of  love  : 
The  sunset  is  burning 
Like  incense  above ; 

'Tis  His  token,  and  gladly 
I  walk  to  my  death. 


THE  CHILD  ON  THE  JUDGMENT- 
SEAT.        , 

Where  hast  thou  been  toiling  all  day,  Sweet- 
heart, 
That  thy  brow  is  burdened  and  sad  ? 
The  Master's  work  may  make  weary  feet, 
But  it  leaveth  the  spirit  glad. 
6 


82       CHILD  ON  JUDGMENT-SEAT, 

Was  thy  garden   nipped  with   the   midnight 
frost, 

Or  scorched  with  the  mid-day  glare  ? 
Were  thy  vines  laid  low,  or  thy  lilies  crushed, 

That  thy  face  is  so  full  of  care  ? 


'•  No  pleasant  garden-toils  were  mine  ! — 
I  have  sate  on  the  judgment-seat, 

Where  the  Master  sits  at  eve  and  calls 
The  children  around  His  feet." 


How  camest  thou  on  the  judgment-seat. 
Sweet-heart  ?     Who  set  thee  there  ? 

'Tis  a  lonely  and  lofty  seat  for  thee. 
And  well  might  fill  thee  with  care. 


"  I  climbed  on  the  judgment-seat  myself, 

I  have  sate  there  alone  all  day, 
For  it  grieved  me  to  see  the  children  round 

Idling  their  life  away. 
They  wasted  the  Master's  precious  seed. 

They  wasted  the  precious  hours  ; 
They  trained  not  the  vines,  nor  gathered  the 
fruits, 

And  they  trampled  the  meek,  sweet  flowers/* 


CHILD   ON  JUDGMENT-SEAT.      83 

And  what  hast  thou  done  on  the  judgment- 
seat, 

Sweet-heart?     What  did'st  thou  there  ? 
Would  the  idlers  heed  thy  childish  voice  ? 

Did  the  garden  mend  for  thy  care  ? 

"  Nay,  that  grieved  me  more  !     I  called  and  I 
cried, 

But  they  left  me  there  forlorn  ; 
My  voice  was  weak,  and  they  heeded  not, 

Or  they  laughed  my  words  to  scorn." 

Ah,  the  judgment-seat  was  not  for  thee  ! 

The  servants  were  not  thine ! 
And  the  Eyes  which  adjudge  the  praise  and 
blame 

See  farther  than  thine  or  mine. 
The   Voice   that   shall   sound   there    at    eve, 
Sweet-heart, 

Will  not  raise  its  tones  to  be  heard  ; 
It  will  hush  the  earth,  and  hush  the  hearts. 

And  none  will  resist  its  word. 

•*  Should  I  see  the  Master's  treasures  lost, 
The  stores  that  should  feed  his  poor, 

And  not  lift  my  voice,  be  it  weak  as  it  may. 
And  not  be  grieved  and  sore  ?  " 


84      CHILD    ON  JUDGMENT-SEA  T. 

Wait  till  the  evening  falls,  Sweet-heart, 

Wait  till  the  evening-  falls ; 
The  Master  is  near  and  knoweth  all, 

Wait  till  the  Master  calls. 
But  how  fared  thy  garden-plot,  Sweet-heart, 

Whilst  thou  sat'st  on  the  judgment-seat  ? 
Who  watered  thy  roses  and  trained  thy  vines. 

And  kept  them  from  careless  feet  ? 

"  Nay,  that  is  the  saddest  of  all  to  me  ! 

That  is  the  saddest  of  all ! 
My  vines  are  trailing,  my  roses  are  parched. 

My  lilies  droop  and  fall." 

Go  back  to  thy  garden-plot,  Sweet-heart! 

Go  back  till  the  evening  falls ! 
And  bind  thy  lilies,  and  train  thy  vines, 

Till  for  thee  the  Master  calls. 
Go  make  thy  garden  fair  as  thou  can'st, — 

Thou  workest  never  alone  ; 
Perchance  he  w^hose  plot  is  next  to  thine 

Will  see  it,  and  mend  his  own. 

And  the  next  may  copy  his,  Sweet-heart, 

Till  all  grows  fair  and  sweet ; 
And,  when  the  Master  comes  at  eve, 

Happy  faces  His  coming  will  greet. 


THE  SACRIFICE  OF  THE   WILL.     85 

Then  shall  thy  joy  be  full,  Sweet-heart, 

In  the  garden  so  fair  to  see, 
In  the  Master's  words  of  praise  for  all, 

In  a  look  of  His  own  for  thee  ! 


THE  SACRIFICE   OF  THE  WILL. 

"  Thy  IV 'II  be  done. " 

Laid  on  Thy  altar,  O  our  Lord  divine. 

Accept  my  gift  this  day,  for  Jesu's  sake  ! 
I  have  no  jewels  to  adorn  Thy  shrine, 

Nor  any  world-famed  sacrifice  to  make  ; 
But  here  I  bring  within  my  trembling  hand 
This  Will  of  mine — a  thing   that   seemeth 
small ; 
And  Thou  alone,  O  Lord,  canst  understand 
How,  when  I  yield  Thee  this,  I  yield  Thee 
all. 
Hidden  therein,  Thy  searching  gaze  can  see 

Struggles  of  passion,  visions  of  delight — 
All  that  I  have,  or  am,  or  fain  would  be — 

Deep  love,  fond  hope,  and  longings  infinite. 
It  hath  been  wet  with  tears,  and  dimmed  with 
sighs. 
Clenched   in  my  grasp   till   beauty  hath   it 
none  ; 


86         WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL. 

Now,  from  Thy  footstool  where  it  vanquished 
lies, 
The  prayer  ascendeth,  "  May  Thy  will  be 
done." 
Take  it,  O  Father,  ere  my  courage  fail. 

And  merge  it  so  in  Thy  own  will,  that  e'en 
If  in  some  desperate  hour  my  cries  prevail. 
And  Thou  give  back  my  gift,  it  may  have 
been 
So  changed  and  purified,  so  fair  have  grown, 

So  one  with  Thee,  so  filled  with  peace  divine, 
I  may  not  know  or  feel  it  as  mine  own, — 
But  gaining   back   my    will,    may    find    it 
Thine. 

THE  CROSS. 

A  CHRISTLESS  cross  no  refuge  were  for  me ; 
A  crossless  Christ  my  Saviour  might  not  be  ; 
But,  O  Christ  crucified,  I  rest  in  Thee  ! 

WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL. 

We  stood  beside  the  sculptured  screen, 

And  heard  the  holy  sound 
Of  music,  from  the  choir  within, 

Filling  the  silence  round. 


WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL.        Sj 

We  heard  it  rise  and  float  and  fall, 
Yet  could  not  catch  the  words,  * 

Which,  to  the  worshippers  within, 
Blent  with  those  solemn  chords. 

But  as  each  psalm  drew  near  its  close, 
We  knew  that  they  would  raise 

Unto  the  Lord  Omnipotent, 
Ascriptions  of  high  praise. 

Then  we,  too,  joined,  and  sang  aloud, 

"  Glory  to  God  most  high, 
To  Father,  Son,  and  Comforter, 

To  all  eternity  ! " 

And  thoughts  arose  of  those  we  love, 

Whose  footsteps  with  us  trod 
Along  the  path  of  life  awhile. 

Then  mounted  to  their  God. 

They  scaled  the  golden  steps  to  Heaven, 

And  passed  the  inner  gate  ; 
We  in  the  outer  Church  remain, 

Nor  understand  their  state. 

We  know  not  what  new  song  they  sing, 

Save  that  they  sometimes  cry, 
*'  Unto  the  Lamb  that  once  was  slain 

Be  praise  and  majesty  ! " 


8  WINCHESTER  CATHEDRAL, 

And  we  may  join, — though  at  our  prayers 
On  earth  no  more  they  bend ; 

In  adoration  of  the  Lamb, 
Our  voices  still  can  blend. 

O  Thou  of  Whom  the  family 
In  heaven  and  earth  is  named, 

For  whom  such  joys  Thou  hast  prepared. 
That  Thou  art  not  ashamed 

To  call  us  "  brethren,"  and  to  let 
Our  souls  through  anguish  learn 

To  love,  as  Thou  dost,  patiently. 
Without  the  glad  return 

From  voice  of  answering  love, — without 
The  help  of  sense  or  sight ; — 

Sustain  us  when  we  faint  and  fall, 
Till  we  are  purged  quite 

From  all  alloy  of  sin  and  self, — 

Till  we  are  meet  to  be 
Gathered  at  last  with  our  beloved, 

Thy  countenance  to  see. 


*'N0  NIGHT  there:'  89 


"  THERE  SHALL  BE  NO  NIGHT 
THERE." 

No  night  of  gloom,  to  drop  between  our  eyes 
And  smiling  summer  skies  ? 

No   slow-paced    night    of   gnawing   pain,    tp 
creep 
Between  our  eyes  and  sleep  ? 

No  night  of  woe,  to  shut  all  dear  delight 
Out  from  our  longing  sight  ? 

No  night  of  sin,  to  grow  and  never  cease 
Betwixt  our  hearts  and  peace  ? 

No  night  of  death,  to  darken  drearily 
Between  our  souls  and  Thee  ? 

Ah,   through    these    nights    guide    us,   sweet 
Lord,  we  pray. 
Up  to  that  nightless  Day  ! 


90  THE    TURNED  LESSON', 


THE  TURNED  LESSON. 

*'  I  THOUGHT  I  knew  it !  "  she  said  : 
"  I  thought  I  had  learned  it  quite  !  " 
But  the  gentle  teacher  shook  her  head, 

With  a  grave,  yet  loving  light 
In  the  eyes  that  fell  on  the  upturned  face. 

As  she  gave  the  book 
With  the  mark  still  set  in  the  self-same  place, 

"  I  thought  I  knew  it !  "  she  said  ; 

And  a  heavy  tear  fell  down 

As  she  turned  away  with  bending  head ; 

Yet  not  for  reproof  or  frown, 
And  not  for  the  lesson  to  learn  again, 

Or  the  play  hour  lost ; 
It  was  something  else  that  gave  the  pain. 

She  could  not  have  put  it  in  words. 
But  her  teacher  understood, 
As  God  understands  the  chirp  of  the  birds 

In  the  depths  of  an  autumn  wood  ; 
And  a  quiet  touch  on  the  reddening  cheek 

Was  quite  enough  ;  • 

No  need  to  question,  no  need  to  speak. 


THE    TURNED   LESSON.  9 1 

Then  the  gentle  voice  was  heard, 

"  Now  I  will  try  you  again," 

And  the  lesson  was  mastered,  every  word  ; 

Was  it  not  worth  the  pain  ? 
Was  it  not  kinder  the  task  to  turn. 

Than  to  let  it  pass 
As  a  lost,  lost  leaf  that  she  did  not  learn  ? 

Is  it  not  often  so, 

That  we  only  learn  in  part, 
And  the  Master's  testing-time  may  show 
That  it  was  not  quite  "  by  heart "  ? 
Then  He  gives,  in  His  wise  and  patient  grace, 

The  lesson  again. 
With  the  mark  still  set  in  the  self-same  place. 

Only  stay  by  His  side 

Till  the  page  is  really  known  ; 
It  may  be  we  failed  because  we  tried 

To  learn  it  all  alone. 
And  now  that  He  would  not  let  us  lose 

One  lesson  of  love 
(For  He  knows  the  loss),  can  we  refuse? 

But  oh  !  how  could  we  dream 
That  we  knew  it  all  so  well, 
Reading  so  fluently,  as  we  deem, 

What  we  could  not  even  spell  ? 


92 


THE  LOST  COIN, 


But  oh  !  how  could  we  grieve  once  more 

That  patient  One, 
Who  has  turned  so  many  a  task  before  ! 

That  waiting  One,  who  now 
Is  letting  us  try  again  ; 
Watching  us  with  the  patient  brow 

That  bore  the  wreath  of  pain  ; 
Thoroughly  teaching  what  He  would  teach, 

Line  upon  line, 
Thoroughly  doing  His  work  in  each. 

Then  let  our  hearts  be  still. 

Though  our  task  be  turned  to-day. 
Oh  !  let  Him  teach  us  what  He  will, 

In  His  most  gracious  way, 
Till,  sitting  only  at  Jesus*  feet, 
As  we  learn  each  line. 
The  hardest  is  found  all  clear  and  sweet. 


THE  LOST  COIN. 

Lord,  Thou  dost  enter  in. 
Into  this  world  of  sin, 
Sweeping  it  with  the  besom  of  Thy  love ; 


BE  YOND. 


93 


Searching  for  that  last  coin 

Which  Satan  did  purloin 
From  God's  great  treasury  above. 

Finding  it  in  the  dust, 

Thou  dost  remove  its  rust ; 
And,  with  His  image  re-impressed  once  more, 
That  which  was  God's  Thou  dost  to  God  re- 
store. 


BEYOND. 

Never  a  word  is  said, 

But  it  trembles  in  the  air, 
And  the  truant  voice  has  sped, 
To  vibrate  everywhere  ; 
And  perhaps  far  off  in  eternal  years 
The  echo  may  ring  upon  our  ears. 

Never  are  kind  acts  done 

To  wipe  the  weeping  eyes. 
But  like  flashes  of  the  sun, 
They  signal  to  the  skies  ; 
And  up  above  the  angels  read 
How  we  have  helped  the  sorer  need. 

Never  a  day  is  given. 

But  it  tones  the  after  years. 


94  THE   VOICE   WITHIN, 

And  it  carries  up  to  heaven 
Its  sunshine  or  its  tears ; 
While  the  to-morrows  stand  and  wait, 
The  silent  mutes  by  the  outer  gate. 

There  is  no  end  to  the  sky, 

And  the  stars  are  everywhere. 
And  time  is  eternity, 

And  the  here  is  over  there ; 
For  the  common  deeds  of  the  common  day 
Are  ringing  bells  in  the  far-away. 


THE  VOICE  WITHIN. 

A  Voice  to  me  calling — calling  ! 

And  what  doth  it  say  through  the  shine  ? 
*'Oh,  life  is  so  vain,  with  its  endless  refrain 
Of '  That  which    hath    been    is   what   cometh 
again,' — 

Till  Death  puts  the  wretched  '  In  fine  ! ' " 

A  Voice  to  me  calling — calling  ! 

And  what  doth  it  say  through  the  gloom  ? 
"  Oh,  life  is  so  sweet  at  the  Lord's  dear  feet ; 
In  the  light  of  His  smile  it  is  sequence  com- 
plete. 

And  a  door  into  glory,  the  tomb!" 


JACOB'S  LADDER,  95 


JACOB'S  LADDER. 

Ah  !  many  a  time  we  look,  on  starlit  nights, 
Up  to  the  sky,  as  Jacob  did  of  old  ; 

Look  longing  up  to  the  eternal  lights, 
To  spell  their  lines  of  gold. 

But  never  more,  as  to  the  Hebrew  boy, 
Each  on  his  way  the  Angels  walk  abroad. 

And  never  more  we  hear,  with  awful  joy, 
The  audible  voice  of  God. 

Yet,  to  pure  eyes  the  Ladder  still  is  set, 
And  Angel  visitants  still  come  and  go  ; 

Many  bright  messengers  are  moving  yet 
From  the  dark  world  below. 

Thoughts,"that  are  surely  Faith's  outspreading 
wings — 
Prayers  of  the  Church,   still   keeping   time 
and  tryst — 
Heart-wishes,  making  bee-like  murmurings, 
Their  flower  the  Eucharist — 

Spirits  elect,  through  suffering  rendered  meet 
For  those  high  mansions — from  the  nursery 
door 


g6       I  WILL  NOT  LET    THEE   GO, 

Bright  babes  that  seemed  to  climb  with  clay- 
cold  feet 
Up  to  the  Golden  Floor, — 

These  are  the  messengers  forever  wending 
From  earth  to  Heaven,  that  faith  alone  can 
scan ; 

These  are  the  Angels  of  our  God,  ascending 
Upon  the  Son  of  Man  ! 


THE  WAVE. 

The  v/ave  is  mighty,  but  the  spray  is  weak ! 
And  often  thus  our  great  and  high  resolves, 
Grand  in  their  forming  as  an  ocean  wave, 
Break  in  the  spray  of  nothing. 


I  WILL   NOT   LET   THEE   GO. 

And  the  disciples  said.  Send  her  away,  for  she  crieth 
after  us.  But  He  said.  Great  is  thy  faith,  be  it  unto  thee 
ezien  as  thou  wilt. 

I  WILL  not  let  Thee  go,  Thou  Help  in  time  ot 
need  ! 

Heap  ill  on  ill, 
I  trust  Thee  still, 


/   WILL  NOT  LET   THEE  GO. 


97 


E'en  when  it  seems  as  Thou  would'st  slay  in- 
deed ! 

Do  as  Thou  wilt  with  me, 

I  yet  will  cling  to  Thee  ; 
Hide  Thou  thy  face,  yet,  Help  in  time  of  need, 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ;  should   I  forsake  my 
bliss  ? 

No,  Lord,  thou'rt  mine, 

And  I  am  Thine, 
Thee  will  I  hold  when  all  things  else  I  miss. 

Though  dark  and  sad  the  night, 

Joy  Cometh  with  the  light, 

0  Thou  my  Sun,  should  I  forsake  my  bliss  ? 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

1  will  not  let  Thee  go,  my  God,  my  Life,  my 

Lord! 
Not  Death  can  tear 
Me  from  His  care, 
Who  for  my  sake  His  soul  in  death  outpoured. 
Thou  died'st  for  love  of  me, 
I  say  in  love  to  Thee, 
E'en  when  my  heart  shall  break,  my  God,  my 
Life,  my  Lord, 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go  ! 

7 


98  THE  ASCENSION. 

THE  WHEREFORE. 

God  only  smites,  that  through  the  wounds  of 

woe 
The  healing  balm  He  gives  may  inlier  flow. 

THE  ASCENSION. 

The  crimson  petals  of  the  withering  day 

Lay  scattered  on  a  bank  of  evening  cloud  : 
Came  twinkling  forth  upon  their  glittering  way 
The  bright  forerunners  of  the  starry  crowd. 
The  hazy  calmness  of  the  eventide 

Fell  softly  over  mountain,  stream  and  hill  ; 
Time's  greatest  day,  in  all  its  sunny  pride. 

Was  gathered  to  its  fathers  calm  and  still. 
That  day  to  be  remembered  evermore. 

When    the    ascending   Lord    the    heavens 
bowed  : 

O  Risen  Crucified  ! 
Straight  from  Thy  Cross  unto  Thy  Throne  we 
soar. 


THE  GOSPEL  FOR  THE  DAY. 

"  A  PLEASANT  room  !  "  the  lady  said, 
Pausing  within  the  artist's  door, 

And  smiling  at  the  pictured  walls, 
The  sunshine  slanting  to  the  floor. 


The  artist  sighed. — "  Yet  gladly  I 

Would  miss  that  sunshine's  fluent  gold  \ 

So  oft  I  think  I'm  painting  warm, 
When  I  am  really  painting  cold  ' 

99 


lOO     THE   GOSPEL   FOR    THE  DAY. 

"  My  picture  seems  so  full  of  sun  ! — 
I  think  the  whole  wide  summer  lives 

And  breathes  within  its  little  space, 

With  all  the  warmth  that  summer  gives  ; 

"  Till,  as  the  day  draws  to  its  close, 
And  sunbeams  fade  along  the  wall, 

I  find  the  sun  was  in  the  room, 
Not  in  my  lines  and  tints  at  all. 

"  So,  though  the  sunshine  be  so  sweet, 
So  passing  fair  to  heart  and  sight, 

I  would  my  studio  looked  due  North, 
That  I  might  read  my  work  aright. 

"  If  in  the  North-light  cool  and  pure 

The  pictured  scenes  with  summer  shine, 

I  know  the  sun  is  in  the  work, 

The  warmth  and  glow  are  truly  mine. 

"  But  in  the  sunshine's  glamour  fair. 
The  colors  show  not  truthful-wise  ; 

And  for  Art's  sake,  I  well  can  spare 
All  sun,  all  shine,  that  cheat  my  eyes." 

It  was  the  Gospel  for  the  Day^ 

And  haply  fell  in  fertile  mould  ;— - 
"  My  heart  and  life,"  she  mused,  "  seem  warm  ; 
Now,  would  the  North-light  prove  them  cold  ? 


THE   GOSPEL   FOR    THE  DAY.     loi 

"  A  temper  sweet,  a  smiling  face, — 

Hands  not  much  soiled  by  shame  and  sin, — 

How  much  is  due  to  sunny  ways  ? 

How  much  to  light  and  strength  within  ? 

"  Should    Sorrow     pierce     me    through    and 
through. 

Should  riches  flee  on  sudden  wings, 
Would  heart  and  smile  keep  warm  and  true 

With  joy  from  still  untroubled  springs  ? 

••  Nay, — more  ; — while  yet  the  sunshine  falls 
Within  my  life's  large  room,  must  I, 

For  sake  of  better  work,  be  fain 

To  shut  that  brightness  from  my  sky  ? — 

"To  turn  my  back  on  pleasure's  sun, 
And  hours  of  dainty  ease  resign, 

That  so  my  life  with  warmer  love 
And  richer  light  may  inly  shine  ! 

"  For  Art,  and  not  for  God  ? — Ah,  me  ! 

Why  was  the  sunshine  made  so  bright  ? 
Why  are  the  children  of  the  world 

Wiser  than  children  of  the  light  ?  " 

So  from  the  artist's  sunny  room, 

Slow  down  the  shadowy  stair  she  goes, 

Within  herself  still  questioning. 

"The  answer  ?  " — That  God  only  knows. 


I02  JUDGE  NOT, 

JUDGE  NOT. 

I  Kings,  xviii.  22. 

Where  we  but  see  the  darkness  of  the  mine, 
God  sees  the  diamond  shine. 

Where  we  can  only  clustering  leaves  behold, 
He  sees  the  bud  they  fold. 

Where  we  can  only  threatening  clouds  descry, 
He  sees  the  hidden  sky. 

Dark  is  the  glass  through  which  we  see  each 
other ; 
We  may  not  judge  a  brother. 

We  only  see  the  rude  and  outer  strife  ; 
God  knows  the  inner  life. 

Where  we  our  voice  in  condemnation  raise, 
God  may  see  fit  to  praise  ; 

And    those,    from    whom,  like    Pharisees,   we 
shrink, 
With  Christ  may  eat  and  drink. 


WAITING. 


WAITING. 


103 


Lord  of  my  nights  and  days  ! 

Let  my  desire  be, 
Not  to  be  rid  of  earth, 

But  nearer  Thee. 

If  I  may  nearer  draw 

Through  lengthened  grief  and  pain, 
Then,  to  continue  here. 

Must  be  my  gain  ; 

Till  I  have  strengthened  been 

To  take  a  wider  grasp 
Of  that  eternal  Life, 

I  long  to  clasp  ; 

Till  I  am  so  refined, 

I  can  the  glory  bear 
Of  that  excess  of  joy, 

I  thirst  to  share  ; 

Till  I  am  meet  to  gaze 

On  uncreated  Light, 
Transformed,  and  perfected, 

By  that  new  sight. 


I04.  ^y  VESPER   SONG. 

Sorrow's  long  lesson  o'er, 

Death's  discipline  gone  tlirough, 

Thou  wilt  unfold  to  me 
What  joy  can  do. 

Glad  souls  are  oh  the  wing, 

From  earth  to  heaven  they  flee  ; 

At  last  Thine  hour  will  come 
To  send  for  me. 

Reveal  the  mighty  love 

That  binds  Thy  heart  to  mine  ; 
Thy  counsels  and  my  will 

Should  intertwine. 

Lord  of  my  heart  and  hopes  ! 

Let  my  desire  be 
Not  to  be  rid  of  earth, 

But  one  with  Thee. 


MY  VESPER  SONG. 

Filled  with  weariness  and  pain, 
Scarcely  strong  enough  to  pray, 

In  this  twilight  hour  I  sit, 
Sit  and  sing  my  doubt  away. 


105 


AlV   VESPER   SONG. 

O'er  my  broken  purposes, 
E'er  the  coming  shadows  roll, 

Let  me  build  a  bridge  of  song, 
"Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 


"  Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly  ;  " 

How  the  words  my  thoughts  repeat  ; 
To  thy  bosom,  Lord,  I  come, 

Though  unfit  to  kiss  thy  feet. 
Once  I  gathered  sheaves  for  thee, 

Dreaming  I  could  hold  them  fast, 
Now  I  can  but  idly  sing, 

'•  Oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last." 

I  am  weary  of  my  fears. 

Like  a  child  when  night  comes  on  ; 
In  the  shadow,  Lord,  I  sing, 

"Leave,  oh  leave  me  not  alone." 
Through  the  tears  I  still  must  shed. 

Through  the  evil  yet  to  be, 
Though  I  falter  while  1  sing, 

"  Still  support  and  conitort  me." 

"  All  my  trust  on  thee  is  stayed  ;" 
Does  the  rhythm  of  the  song 

Softly  falling  on  my  heart, 

Make  its  pulses  firm  and  strong? 


Io6  MY  VESPER   SONG, 

Or  is  this  thy  perfect  peace, 
Now  descending  while  I  sing  ? 

That  my  soul  may  sleep  to-night, 
"  'Neath  the  shadow  of  thy  wing.'" 

•'  Thou  of  life  the  fountain  art," 

If  I  slumber  on  thy  breast, 
If  I  sing  myself  to  sleep. 

Sleep  and  death  alike  are  rest. 
Through  the  shadows  overpast, 

Through  the  shadows  yet  to  be, 
Let  the  ladder  of  my  song 

"  Rise  to  all  eternity." 

Note  by  note  its  silver  bars  ! 

May  my  soul  in  love  ascend. 
Till  I  reach  the  highest  round. 

In  thy  kingdom  without  end. 
Not  impatiently  I  sing. 

Though  I  lift  my  hands  and  cry,. 
••Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul, 

Let  me  to  thy  bosom  fly.'' 


IF   THOU  COULD  ST  KNOW.       107 


IF  THOU  COULDST  KNOW. 

I  THINK  if  thou  coulclst  know, 

O  soul  that  will  complain, 
What  lies  concealed  below 

Our  burden  and  our  pain  ; 
How  just  our  anguish  brings 

Nearer  those  longed-for  things 
We  seek  for  now  in  vain, — 
I  think  thou  wouldst  rejoice,  and  not  complain. 

I  think  if  thou  couldst  see, 

With  thy  dim  mortal  sight, 
How  meanings,  dark  to  thee. 
Are  shadows  hiding  light  ; 
Truth's  efforts  crossed  and  vexed, 
Life's  purpose  all  perplexed, — 
If  thou  couldst  see  them  right, 
I   think  that  they  would  seem  all  clear,  and 
wise,  and  bright. 

And  yet  thou  canst  not  know, 
And  yet  thou  canst  not  see  ;~ 

Wisdom  and  sight  are  slow 
In  poor  humanity. 

If  thou  couldst  trust,  poor  soul, 
In  Him  who  rules  the  whole. 

Thou  wouldst  find  peace  and  rest : 
Wisdom  and  sight  are  well,  but  Trust  is  best. 


I08  MY  PRAYER. 


DEATH. 


Death  !  since  thy  darksome  mist 
Encircled  the  all-glorious  head  of  Christ, 
Thou  now  dost  shine 
A  halo  all  divine. 


MY  PRAYER. 

Why  should  my  prayings  oft 
In  narrow  channels  run  ? — 

"Give  me  of  this  or  that, 
Less  shadow,  more  of  sun  ! '' 

I  know  that  all  my  ways 
In  ordered  sequence  go; 

I  know  that  Love  Divine 

Appoints  my  bloom  and  snow; 

I  know  that  where  I  see 

In  part,  Thou  seest  the  whole, 
That  time  and  life  and  death 

Are  in  Thy  wise  control. 


THANKSGIVING. 

How  should  my  blindness  then 
To  prompt  Thy  goodness  dare  ? 

Henceforth,  in  good  or  ill, 
Be  this  my  humble  prayer. — 

"  Grant  me  to  ask  from  life 
No  more  than  life  can  give  ; 

Grant  me  to  lose  in  death 
Naught  but  this  life  I  live.*' 


THANKSGIVING. 

I. 

Thanks  be  to  God  !  to  whom  earth  owes 

Sunshine  and  breeze, 
The  heath-clad  hill,  the  vale's  repose, 

Streamlet  and  seas. 
The  snowdrop  and  the  summer  rose, 

The  many-voiced  trees. 

II. 

Thanks  for  the  darkness  that  reveals 

Night's  starry  dower  ; 
And  for  the  sable  cloud  that  heals 

Each  fevered  flower  ; 
And  for  the  rushing  storm  that  peals 

Our  weakness  and  Thy  power. 


109 


1 1  o  THA  NKSGI VING. 


Thanks  for  the  sweetly-lingering  might 

In  music's  tone  ; 
For  paths  of  knowledge,  whose  calm  light 

Is  all  Thine  own  ; 
For  thoughts  that  at  the  Infinite 

Fold  their  bright  wings  alone. 

IV. 

Yet  thanks  that  silence  oft  may  flow 

In  dew-like  store  ; 
Thanks  for  the  mysteries  that  show 

How  small  our  lore  ; 
Thanks  that  we  here  so  little  know, 

And  trust  Thee  all  the  more. 


Thanks  for  the  gladness  that  entwines 

Our  path  below ; 
Each  sunrise  that  incarnadines 

The  cold,  still  snow  ; 
Thanks  for  the  light  of  love,  that  shines 

With  brightest  earthly  glow. 

VI. 

Thanks  for  the  sickness  and  the  grief 
That  none  may  flee  ; 


JESU  DULCIS  MEMORIA.         \\\ 

For  loved  ones  standing  now  around 

The  crystal  sea  ; 
And  for  the  weariness  of  heart 

That  only  rests  in  Thee. 

VII. 

Thanks  for  Thine  own  thrice-blessed  Word, 

And  Sabbath  rest ; 
Thanks  for  the  hope  of  glory  stored 

In  mansions  blest, 
And  for  the  Spirit's  comfort  poured 

Into  the  trembling  breast. 

VIII. 

Thanks,  more  than  thanks,  to  Him  ascend, 

Who  died  to  win 
Our  life,  and  every  trophy  rend 

From  Death  and  Sin  ; 
Till,  v/hen  the  thanks  of  earth  shall  end. 

The  thanks  of  heaven  begin. 


JESU   DULCIS   MEMORIA. 

Jesu  !  the  very  thought  of  Thee 
With  sweetness  fills  my  breast ; 

But  sweeter  far  Thy  face  to  see. 
And  in  Thy  presence  rest. 


1 1 2    THE  PERFECT  WILL    OF  GOD. 

Nor  voice  can  sing,  nor  heart  can  frame, 

Nor  can  the  memory  find, 
A  sweeter  sound  than  Thy  blest  name, 

O  Saviour  of  mankind  ! 

O  Hope  of  every  contrite  heart, 

O  Joy  of  all  the  meek, 
To  those  who  fall,  how  kind  Thou  art  ! 

How  good  to  those  who  seek ! 

But  what  to  those  who  find  ?     Ah,  this 
Nor  tongue  nor  pen  can  show  ! 

The  love  of  Jesus,  what  it  is, 
None  but  His  loved  ones  know. 

Jesus  !  our  only  joy  be  Thou, 

As  Thou  our  prize  wilt  be  ;  , 

Jesus  !  be  Thou  our  glory  now, 
And  through  eternity. 


THE   PERFECT   WILL   OF   GOD. 

As  from  the  bow'd-down  branches  of  the  trees 
Snow  in  the  sunshine  melteth  by  degrees, 
Leaving  them  free  to  rise 
Once  more  towards  the  skies  ; 
So,  in  the  brightness  of  Thy  glance  divine. 
May  sin  melt  swiftly  from  this  soul  of  ixiine. 


THE    TOUCH  OF   THE    UNSEEN.    113 


LOVE'S  QUESTIONINGS. 

Still  on  the  lips  of  all  we  question 
The  finger  of  God's  silence  lies. 

Shall  the  lost  hands  in  ours  be  folded  ? 
Will  the  shut  eyelids  ever  rise  ? 

O  friends  !  no  proof  beyond  this  yearning, 
This  outreach  of  our  souls,  we  need  : 

God  will  not  mock  the  hope  He  giveth  ; 
No  love  He  prompts  shall  vainly  plead. 

Then  let  us  stretch  our  hands  in  darkness, 
And  call  our  loved  ones  o'er  and  o'er : 

Some  time  their  arms  shall  close  about  us, 
And  the  old  voices  speak  once  more. 


THE  TOUCH  OF  THE  UNSEEN. 

As  feel  the  flowers  the  sun  in  heaven. 
But  sky  and  sunlight  never  see  ; 

So  feel  I  Thee,  O  God,  my  God, 
Thy  dateless  noontide  hid  from  me. 
8 


114     THE    TOUCH  OF   THE    UNSEEN. 

As  touch  the  buds  the  blessed  rain, 
But  rain  and  rainbow  never  see  ; 

So  touch  I  God,  in  bliss  or  pain. 

His  far,  vast  rainbow  veiled  from  me. 

Orion,  moon  and  sun  and  bow 

Amaze  a  sky  unseen  by  me  ; 
God's  wheeling  heaven  is  there,  I  know. 

Although  its  arch  I  cannot  see. 

In  low  estate,  I,  as  the  flower, 

Have  nerves  to  feel,  not  eyes  to  see  ; 

The  subtlest  in  the  conscience  is 

Thyself,  and  that  which  toucheth  Thee. 

Forever  it  may  be  that  I 

More  yet  shall  feel,  but  shall  not  see 
Above  my  soul  Thy  wholeness  roll 

Not  visibly,  but  tangibly. 

But  flaming  heart  to  rain  and  ray. 

Turn  I  in  meekest  loyalty  ; 
I  breathe,  and  move,  and  live  in  Thee, 

And  drink  the  ray  I  cannot  see. 


THE  HEM  OF  HIS  GARMENT. 

O  God  of  Calvary  and  Bethlehem, 

Thou  who  did'st  suffer  rather  than  condemn, 

Grant  me  to  touch  Thy  garment's  healing  hem! 

Thou  trailest  Thy  fair  robes  of  seamless  light 
Through  this  dark  world  of  misery  and  night ; 
Its  blackness  cannot  mar  Thy  spotless  white. 

Thou  dost  not,  Master,  as  we  pass  Thee  by, 
Draw  in  Thy  robes  lest  we  should  come  too 

nigh  ; 
We  see  no  scorn  in  Thine  all-sinless  eye. 

There  is  no  shrinking  even  from  our  touch  ; 
Thy  tenderness  to  us  is  ever  such, 
It  can  endure  and  suffer  much. 


EASTER     THOUGHTS     FOR     EASTER 
FLOWERS. 

Easter  blossoms,  honeyed  blossoms,  gathered 

here  in  holy  places, 
Rich  in  odor,  warm  in  color,  how  ye  shame  us 

by  your  graces ! 


Il6  EASTER  FLOWERS. 

If  our  lives  were  plucked  this  morning,  for  an 

offering  on  this  altar 
(How  the  thought  goes  through  and  through 

us,  how  our  tongues  'mid  praises  falter  !) — 

Void  of  fragrance,  void  of  honey,  void  of  lovely- 
form  and  color. 

Ah,  how  pallid  they  would  seem  there,  in  your 
brightness  growing  duller  ! — 

Ah,  how  scentless  they  would  lie  there,  'mid 
your  wealth  of  perfume-treasure  ! 

Ah,  how  quickly  they  would  die  there,  in  His 
glance's  stern  displeasure  ! 

Spare  them.  Lord,  a  little  longer,  by  the  might 

of  Christ's  dear  graces, 
Through   Thy  sunshine   and   Thy  rainfall   to 

grow  sweeter  in  their  places, — 

Rich  with  faith's  enshrined  honey,  warm  with 
love's  heart-crimsoned  splendor. 

Bright  with  hope's  undying  verdure,  sweet  with 
scent  of  meekness  tender  : — 

So,  when  Easter  cometh  newly,  filling  up  the 

year's  completeness, 
Lives  of  ours  beside  the  flowers  shall  not  seem 

all  void  of  sweetness  ! 


''GATHER    UP    THE  FRAGMENTS:*  ny 


LIFE'S  TAPESTRY. 

Too  long  have  I,  methought,  with  tearful  eye 
Pored  o'er  this  tangled  work  of  mine,  and 

mused 
Above  each  stitch  awry  and  thread  confused; 

Now  will  I  think  on  what  in  years  gone  by 

I  heard  of  them  that  weave  rare  tapestry 

At  royal  looms  ;  and  how  they  constant  use 
To  work  on  the  rough  side,  and  still  peruse 

The  pictured  pattern  set  above  them  high. 

So  will  I  set  my  copy  high  above, 

And  gaze  and  gaze  till  on  my  spirit  grows 

Its  gracious  impress  ;  till  some  line  of  love 
Transferred  upon  my  canvas,  faintly  glows  ; 

Nor  look  too  much  on  warp  and  woof,  provide 

He  whom  I  work  for  sees  their  fairer  side  ! 


'  GATHER  UP  THE  FRAGMENTS." 

What  life  art  thou  living  ? 

A  life  of  giving, — 
Not  of  mere  golden  store. 

But  more — much  more  ? 


Il8  ''GATHER    UP    THE  FRAGMENTS: 

Is  it  a  shelter  ? 

Doth  it  impart 
Love,  rest,  and  thankfulness 

Unto  one  heart  ? 

Is  it  a  wilderness. 

Harsh  and  severe, — 
Those  who  pass  over  it 

Feeling  "  How  drear  ?  " 

Is  it  a  simple  life. 

Soft  to  the  touch, — 
Not  one  of  many  words, 

But  of  '*  love  much  ?  " 

Or  doth  base  selfishness 

Lurk,  as  thine  aim,  ' 

Through  all  thy  usefulness  ? 
Tremble  with  shame  ! 

Is  thine  a  grateful  hfe. 

True  in  its  tone, — 
Yielding  in  thankfulness 

What  God  hath  sown, — 

Sounding  an  echo  meek 
(Heard  through  the  strife — 

Trembling,  indeed,  and  weak) 
Of  the  Great  Life  ? 


THIR  r  Y-FOLD,  119 

If  so,  thy  life  may  be 

Humble,  unknown  : 
Yet  it  is  leading  thee 

Up  to  a  throne. 


THIRTY-FOLD. 

*'  Some  sixty, — some  an  hundred  : " — Why 
Should  not  such  reckoning  have  been  mine  ? 
The  seed  itself  was  as  divine, 
The  quickening  power  as  strong  :  yet  I 
Bear  witness  to  the  increase  told, — 
"  Some,  thirty-fold." 

And  was  the  fallow-ground  prepared 
By  patient  mellowing  of  the  clod, 
And  were  the  precious  rains  of  God, 
So  often  by  the  furrow  shared. 
To  yield,  with  sunshine's  added  gold. 
But  thirty-fold  ? 

And  yet  the  tiller  watched  the  growth, 
And  lopped  with  constant  care  away 
The  noxious  tares  that,  day  by  day, 

My  heart-soil  nurtured,  nothing  loath 

Thereby  the  stinted  gain  to  hold 
To  thirty-fold. 


I20    THE  BEAUTY  OF  HOLINESS. 

The  strengthening  of  the  winter  frost 
Was  not  denied,  thro'  which  the  root 
Might  strike  with  deeper,  downward  shoot, 

And  back  and  forth  the  blade  was  tost  ; 

Yet  what  the  count  when  all  is  told  ? 
Just  thirty-fold  ! 

The  Master's  lowest  measure  ! — When 
He  walks  his  field  another  year, 
To  guard  and  gauge  the  ripening  ear, 
Pray  Heaven  he  may  not  find  again, 
That  mine  lifts  upward  from  the  mould 
Still  thirty-fold  ! 

O  Sower  of  the  seed  divine. 

Make  it  "  an  hundred  !  " — Nevermore 
May  I  be  shamed  in  counting  o'er. 

Amid  the  swath,  these  grains  of  mine, 

To  see  the  harvest  handsel  hold 
But  thirty-fold  ! 


THE  BEAUTY  OF  HOLINESS. 

I  LOVE  Thy  skies  and  sunny  mists. 
Thy  fields.  Thy  mountains  hoar. 

Thy  wind  that  bloweth  where  it  lists, — 
Thy  will,  I  love  it  more. 


CALVARY.  121 

I  love  Thy  hidden  truth  to  seek 

All  round,  in  sea,  on  shore, 
The  arts  whereby  like  God  we  speak, — 

Thy  will  to  me  is  more. 

I  love  Thy  men  and  women,  Lord, 

The  children  round  Thy  door. 
Calm  thoughts  that  inward  strength  afford, — 

Thy  will,  O  Lord,  is  more. 

But  when  Thy  will  my  life  doth  hold, 

Thine  to  the  very  core, 
The  world,  which  that  same  will  did  mould, 

I  shall  love  ten  times  more. 


CALVARY. 

John,  xviii.  32. 

Yea,  all  the  paths  of  earth  lead  up  to  thee, 

O  Calvary  ! 
The  sad,  the  pleasant, 

The  bond  and  free, 
The  prince  and  peasant. 

As  equals  meet  around  thy  tree. 
The  past  and  present 

Merged  into  one  are  found 

Upon  thy  holy  ground. 


122  EMPTINESS. 

Darkness  and  light 

Are  on  Christ's  left  and  on  His  right, 

But  we  ourselves  must  place 

In  judgment  or  in  grace. 
We  may  in  darkness  stand, 
Or  kneel  at  His  right  hand. 

Unheeding  of  His  wistful  cry, 

We  cannot  pass  Christ  by  ; 
We  must  "Hosanna  "  sing,  or  *•  Crucify,'' 

Confess  Him  or  deny. 


EMPTINESS. 

*•  Yet,  spite  of  all,  some  good  work  thou  hast 
wrought 
In  moments  snatched  from  pain's  persistent 

sway. 
Some  fair  fruits  plucked  along  thy  thorny 
way. 
Some  pleasant  sheaves  from  scattered  grain- 
rows  caught. 
Not  empty-handed  quite  shalt  thou  be  brought 
Before  the  King,  but  worthy  gifts  to  lay 
At  His  dear  feet,"     "Sweet   friends,  I   tell 
you.  Nay. 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPPY  DA  V, 


123 


I^ot  thus  before  His  throne  I  stand  in  thought, 
But  dumbly  holding  forth  these  empty  hands 
Full  in   His  sight.     Think  you   He  will  not 
know 
With  what   long,   weary,   wasting,    bitter 
stress 
Of  hope  deferred,  what  precious  aims  and  plans 
Successive   crossed,    what   cherished    pride 
brought  low. 
What  pain,  what  loss,  I  bought  that  empti- 
ness ?  " 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPPY  DAY. 

Just  to  let  the  Father  do 

What  He  will ; 
Just  to  know  that  He  is  true, 

And  be  still. 
Just  to  follow  hour  by  hour 

Where  He  leadeth  ; 
Just  to  draw  the  moment's  power 
As  it  needeth. — 
Just  to  trust  Him,  this  is  all  ! 
Then  the  day  will  surely  be 
Peaceful,  whatsoe'er  befall, 

Briorht  and  blessed,  calm  and  free. 


^^     OF  THE 


mmm^J 


1 24     THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPP  V  DA  V. 

Just  to  let  Him  speak  to  thee 

Through  His  Word, 
Watching,  that  His  voice  may  be 

Clearly  heard. 
Just  to  tell  Him  everything 

As  it  rises. 
And  at  once  to  bring  to  Him 
All  surprises. 
Just  to  listen,  and  to  stay 

Where  you  cannot  miss  His  voice, — 
This  is  all  !  and  thus  to-day 
Communing,  you  shall  rejoice. 

Just  to  ask  Him  what  to  do 

All  the  day, 
And  to  make  you  quick  and  true 

To  obey. 
Just  to  know  the  needed  grace 

He  bestoweth, 
Every  bar  of  time  and  place 
Overfloweth. 
Just  to  take  thy  orders  straight 

From  the  Masters  own  command  ; — 
Blessed  day  !  when  thus  we  wait 
Always  at  our  Sovereign's  hand. 

Just  to  recollect  His  love — 
Always  true, 


THE  SECRET  OF  A  HAPP  V  DA  Y.     125 

Always  shining  from  above, 

Always  new. 
Just  to  recognize  its  light, 

All-enfolding  ; 
Just  to  claim  its  present  might, 
All-upholding. 
Just  to  know  it  as  thine  own, 

That  no  power  can  take  away  ; — 
Is  not  this  enough  alone 

For  the  gladness  of  the  day  ? 

Just  to  trust,  and  yet  to  ask 

Guidance  still, — 
Take  the  training  or  the  task, 

As  He  will. 
Just  to  take  the  loss  or  gain, 

As  He  sends  it ; 
Just  to  take  the  joy  or  pain, 
As  He  lends  it. 
He  who  formed  thee  for  His  praise 

Will  jiot  miss  the  gracious  aim, — 
So  to-day,  and  all  thy  days, 
Shall  be  moulded  for  the  same. 

Just  to  leave  in  His  dear  hand 

Little  things, — 
All  we  cannot  understand, 

All  that  stings. 


126  ALLS  WELL. 

Just  to  let  Him  take  the  care 

Sorely  pressing, 
Finding  all  we  let  Him  bear 
Changed  to  blessing. 
This  is  all !  and  yet  the  way 

Marked  by  Him  who  loves  thee  best,- 
Secret  of  a  happy  day, 
Secret  of  His  promised  rest. 


ALL'S  WELL. 

The  day  is  ended.  Ere  I  sink  to  sleep, 
My  weary  spirit  seeks  repose  in  Thine  ; 

Father,  forgive  my  trespasses,  and  keep 
This  little  life  of  mine.  ' 

With  loving  kindness  curtain  Thou  my  bed, 
And  cool  in  rest  my  burning  pilgrim  feet ; 

Thy  pardon  be  the  pillow  for  my  head. 
So  shall  my  rest  be  sweet. 

At  peace  with  all  the  world,  dear  Lord,  and 
Thee, 
No  fears  my  soul's  unwavering   faith  can 
shake  ; 
All's  well  whichever  side  the  grave  for  me 
The  morning  light  may  break. 


''LITTLE   WHILE''— '' FOREVERr     127 


THE  PAINTING. 

Set  a  painting  in  a  certain  light, 

Only  a  daub  seems  there  ; 
But  let  the  artist  find  the  shade  aright, 

It  showeth  fair. 
And  thus  Christ  taketh  care 

To  scan 
Our  dark  and  bright, 

As  He,  He  only,  can, 
Who  is  the  Maker,  Son,  and  Judge,  of  Man. 


"A  LITTLE  WHILE"  AND  "FOREVER.' 

"  Forever  "  they  are  fading, 

Our  beautiful,  our  bright  ; 
They  gladden  us  "  a  little  while," 

Then  pass  away  from  sight  ; 
"  A  little  while  "  we're  parted 

From  those  who  love  us  best ; 
Who  gain  the  goal  before  us. 

And  enter  into  rest. 

Our  path  grows  very  lonely. 
And  still  those  words  beguile 

And  cheer  our  footsteps  onward,—  - 
'Tis  but  "  a  little  while," — 


128    ''LITTLE   WHILE''— '' forever:' 

*' A  little  while"  earth's  sorrows, 

Its  burdens  and  its  care  ; 
Its  struggles  'neath  the  crosses 

Which  we  of  earth  must  bear. 

There's  time  to  do  and  suffer, 

To  work  our  Masters  will, 
But  not  for  vain  regretting, 

For  thoughts  or  deeds  of  ill. 
Too  short  to  spend  in  weeping 

O'er  broken  hopes  or  flowers, 
Or  wandering  or  wasting, 

Is  this  strange  life  of  ours. 

Though  when  our  cares  oppress  us, 

Earth's  "  little  while"  seems  long. 
If  we  would  win  the  battle, 

We  must  be  brave  and  strong; 
That  so  with  humble  spirit. 

But  highest  hopes  and  aim. 
The  goal  so  often  longed  for 

We  may  perhaps  attain  ; — 

"Forever"  and  "  Forever" 
To  dwell  among  the  blest, 

Where  sorrows  never  trouble 
The  deep,  eternal  rest ; 


NIGHT-SONG,  1 29 

Where  one  by  one  we  gather 

Beneath  our  Father's  smile  ; 
And  Heaven's  sweet  **  forever  '' 

Drowns  earth's  sad  "  little  while !  " 


^'  REJOICE  WITH  THEM  THAT   DO 

REJOICE,    AND   WEEP   WITH 

THEM  THAT  WEEP." 

If  thou  art  blest, 
Then  let  the  sunshine  of  thy  gladness  rest 
On  the  dark  edges  of  each  cloud  that  lies 
Black  in  thy  brother's  skies. 

If  thou  art  sad, 
Still  be  thou  in  thy  brother's  gladness  glad. 


NIGHT-SONG. 

Slow,  stealing  steps  of  moonlight  white 
Glide  noiselessly  about  my  bed  ; 

I  wake  from  slumbers  soft  and  light, 
To  think  for  me  Thy  blood  was  shed — 
Thy  loving  heart  its  life-blood  shed. 
Q 


I30 


NIGHT-SONG. 


In  weary  paths  of  human  pain, 
Tliy  patient  feet  went  to  and  fro, 

To  make  the  way  for  me  more  plain, 

And  in  their  track  sweet  blossoms  grow — 
Rare,  healing  balms  and  blossoms  grow, 

Sleep  from  Thine  anguished  spirit  fled, 
That  mine  in  happy  peace  may  rest  ; 

Thou  had'st  not  where  to  lay  Thy  head. 
That  I  may  slumber  on  Thy  breast — 
Softly  and  safely  on  Thy  breast. 

Thy  heart  was  pierced  with  scoff  and  sneer, 
Thy  lips  endured  the  traitor's  kiss. 

Thy  friends  forsook  Thy  side  in  fear, 
That  I  Thy  love  may  never  miss — 
Thy  love  unfailing  may  not  miss. 

On  Thee  Death  all  his  terrors  spent. 

And  henceforth  waits — a  friendly  shade — 

To  show  me  where  Thy  footsteps  went, 
And  lead  me  after  unafraid — 
To  follow  Thee,  Lord,  not  afraid. 

And  still,  upon  Thy  throne  eterne, 
For  human  woe  and  sin  and  need 

Thy  heart  doth  with  compassion  burn, 
Thy  nail-scarred  hands  uplifted  plead — 
Thy  kingly  lips  for  me  do  plead. 


THE   LOVE    OF  GOD.  131 

So  while  the  silent  moonbeans  weave 
A  silver  halo  round  my  sleep, 

Let  no  ill  dreams  my  heart  aggrieve, — 
I  know  Thy  love  my  soul  will  keep — 
Thy  mighty  love  my  soul  will  keep. 


THE  LOVE  OF  GOD. 

Like  a  cradle  rocking,  rocking, 

Silent,  peaceful,  to  and  fro — 
Like  a  mother's  sweet  looks  dropping 

On  the  little  face  below — 
Hangs  the  green  earth,  swinging,  turning, 

Jarless,  noiseless,  safe  and  slow,- 
Falls  the  light  of  God's  face  bending 

Down  and  watching  us  below. 

And,  as  feeble  babes  that  suffer. 

Toss  and  cry,  and  will  not  rest, 
Are  the  ones  the  tender  mother 

Holds  the  closest,  loves  the  best, — 
So  when  we  are  weak  and  wretched, 

By  our  sins  weighed  down,  distressed — 
Then  it  is  that  God's  great  patience 

Holds  us  closest,  loves  us  best 


132 


OFFERINGS. 


O  great  Heart  of  God  !  whose  loving 

Cannot  hindered  be  nor  crossed ; 
Will  not  weary,  will  not  even 

In  our  death  itself  be  lost- 
Love  divine  !  of  such  great  loving, 

Only  mothers  know  the  cost — 
Cost  of  love,  which  all  love  passing, 

Gave  a  Son  to  save  the  lost. 


"GREAT  IS  THY  FAITH." 

Faith  is  a  grasping  of  Almighty  power  ; 
The  hand  of  man  laid  on  the  arm  of  God  ; — 

The  grand  and  blessed  hour 
In  which  the  things  impossible  to  me 
Become  the  possible,  O  Lord,  through  Thee. 


OFFERINGS. 

Lord,  I  had  planned  to  do  Thee  service  true, 
To  be  more  humbly  watchful  unto  prayer. 
More  faithful  in  obedience  to  Thy  Word, 
More  bent  to  put  away  all  earthly  care. 


<  "^:~OFFERTNGS.  133 

I  thought  of  sad  hearts  comforted  and  healed, 
Of  wanderers  turned  into  the  pleasant  way, 
Of  little  ones  preserved  from  sin  and  snare, 
Of  dark  homes  brightened  with  a  heavenly  ray  ; 

Of  time  all  consecrated  to  Thy  will* 

Of  strength  spent  gladly  for  Thee,  day  by  day, — 

When  suddenly  the  mandate  came 

That  I  should  give  it  all,  at  once,  away. 

Thy   blessed    Hand  came  forth,  and  laid   me 

down. 
Turned  every  beating  pulse  to  throbs  of  pain, 
Hushed  all  my  prayers  into  one  feeble  cry, 
Then  bade  me  to  believe  that  loss  was  gain. 

And  was  it  loss  to  have  indulged  such  hopes  ? — 
Nay,  they  were  gifts  from  out  the  Inner  Shrine, — 
Garlands  that  I  might  hang  about  Thy  Cross, 
Gems  to  surrender  at  the  call  Divine. 

As  chiselled  image  unresisting  lies 

In  niche  by  its  own  Sculptor's  hand  designed, 

So,  to  my  unemployed  and  silent  life, 

Let  me  in  quiet  meekness  be  resigned. 

Thou  art  our  Pattern,  to  the  end  of  time, 
O  Crucified  !  and  perfect  is  Thy  Will. 
The  workers  follow  Thee  in  doing  good  ; 
The  helpless  think  of  Calvary — and  are  still. 


134  HOPE  IN    TROUBLE, 


HOPE  IN  TROUBLE. 

When  musing  Sorrow  weeps  the  past, 
And  mourns  the  present  pain, 

'Tis  sweet  to  think  of  peace  at  last, 
And  feel  that  death  is  gain. 

'Tis  not  that  murmuring  thoughts  arise, 

And  dread  a  Father's  will ; 
*Tis  not  that  meek  submission  flies, 

And  would  not  suffer  still  ; — 

It  is  that  heaven -born  Faith  surveys 
The  path  that  leads  to  light. 

And  longs  her  eagle-plumes  to  raise. 
And  lose  herself  in  sight. 

It  is  that  Hope  with  ardor  glows 

To  see  Him  face  to  face. 
Whose  dying  love  no  language  knows 

Sufficient  art  to  trace. 


MY  FRIEND,  I35 


MY    FRIEND. 

At  set  of  sun, 

Through  musings  dun, 

A  knock  broke  on  my  startled  ear, 

A  voice  said,  sweet  and  silvern  clear, — 

"  Open,  a  Friend  is  at  thy  door." 

I  answered  slow, — 

"  No  friends  I  know. 

Nor  trust  in  friendship  any  more, — 

Friends  sting  and  flay. 

Friends  go  their  way. 

And  leave  one  lonelier  than  before. 

Better  to  dwell  apart, 

Keeping  an  empty  heart, 

Than    see    love's    smile    become    hate's 

frown, — 
Better  a  stirless  gloom, 
Shut  in  a  silent  room. 
Than  ghosts  slow-gliding  up  and  down." 

Again  the  sweet  voice  came, — 
"  Yet  open  all  the  same, 
For  I  have  need  of  thee, 
Though  thou  hast  none  of  me, — 


136  MY  FRIEND. 

I  hunger,  thirst,  am  naked,  sick,  and  poor  ; 

The  weary  sun  is  set, 

My  locks  with  dews  are  wet, 
My  face  with  tears, — I  pray  thee,  ope  thy  door." 

Such  plea  I  could  not  choose 

Unpitying  to  refuse. 

Yet  half-reluctant  still  the  bars  I  drew, 

Gave  food  and  wine. 

Garments  of  mine 

Mended  and  cleansed  to  look  like  new, — 

Nay,  more,  as  love  with  labor  grew. 

And  patient  use  brought  skill, 

Turned  nurse  with  right  good  will  ; — 

Lastly,  my  scanty  purse  did  part 

With  him  who  so  had  won  my  heart. 

O  wondrous  change  and  rare  ! 
In  royal  garments  drest. 
Not  suppliant,  but  KING,  stood  there, 
And  clasped  me  to  His  breast, — 
Not  guest,  but  Host, 

Who,  in  his  turn,  fed  me  at  dearest  cost, — 
Not  pensioner,  but  Friend — 
A  Friend  at  sorest  need, 
Of  kindest  word  and  deed, — 
And  best  of  all,  a  Friend, 
Whose  love  flows  on  and  on,  and  knows  no  end. 


iVJNNO  WING. 


T37 


WINNOWING. 

Thou  ivinnowest  (marg.  reading)  my  path  and  my  lying 
dcrwn^  and  art  acquainted  with  all  viy  ways.''* 

Thou  Searcher  of  all  hearts,  look  down  and 

see, 
Not  if  the  chafifdoth  most  abound  in  me, 
But  if  there  be  a  tithe  of  grace  for  Thee. 


138  WIN  NO  WING, 

A  tithe  for  Thee,  in  all  the  unfruitful  place  ! 
All  the  clay  long  before  the  winds  of  grace 
My  chaff  upriseth  in  Thy  patient  face. 

My  lying-down,  my  path,  my  ways,  how  poor! 
My  wasted  moments'  husks  bestrew  my  floor, 
Yet  still  thou  searchest  by  the  garner  door; 

Content  to  stoop,  if  so  upon  the  ground 

One  grain  of  trust,  one  ear  of  love,  be  found  ; 

So  doth  Thy  patience,  dearest  Lord,  abound. 

Stay,  Lord, — the  place  is  very  dark, — yet  see  ; 
Bring  Thou  Thy  light,  and  search  the  floor  for 

me ; 
Take  what  Thou  findest — all  I  have  for  Thee  : 

Such  as  it  is,  Thou  wilt  not  pass  it  by  ; 
E'en  on  my  chaff"  Thou  treadest  tenderly, — 
Is  it  the  wind,  or  do  I  hear  Thee  sigh  ? 

Ah,  loving  sigh,  that  winnowest  my  floor ! 
Breathe  round  my  heart's  dark  chamber  ever- 
more, 
And  as  Thou  winnowest,  increase  my  store. 


EMBLEMS  OF  CHRIST,  139 


EMBLEMS  OF  CHRIST. 

I. — THE  ROCK. 

Thou  everlasting  Rock ! 
Our  refuge  from  the  overwhelming  shock 
Of  death  and  hell's  surrounding  sea; 
Steps  were  hewn  out  for  us  in  Thee, 

That  we  might  climb 

Thy  height  sublime, 
And  reach  God's  grand  eternity. 

2. — THE   DOOR. 

O  Door  of  Paradise  ! 
Thou  art  so  wide  Thou  can'st  admit  us  all, 
So  narrow  sin  may  never  through  Thee  crawl. 

3.— THE   CORN   OF  WHEAT. 

O  Corn  of  Wheat,  which  God  for  us  did  sow 
In  the  rough  furrows  of  this  world  of  woe, 
That  thou  the  Bread  of  Life  for  us  might  be, 
To  nourish  us  to  all  eternity; 
Grant  us,  through  faith,  O  Christ,  to  feed  on 
Thee! 


I40  EMBLEMS   OE  CHRIST, 

4. — THE  VINE. 

O  true  and  living  Vine, 
Bending  so  low  from  heaven  in  Thine  endeavor 
To  give  us  all  of  Thine  immortal  wine, 
That  we  may  live  forever ! 

5. — THE  WAY. 

Thou  art  the  Way, 
Stretching  across  earth's  shifting  sand 

Unto  the  promised  land  ; 
Walking  in  Thee  our  feet  can  never  stray. 

6.— THE   MORNING  STAR. 

Thou  art  the  bright  and  morning  star, 

Emmanuel ! 
Through  all  the  burden  of  life's  day. 

Oh,  may  my  heart's  deep  well 

Reflect  Thy  light  divine  ; 

And  in  my  day's  decline. 
Rise  Thou  as  Evening  Star,  and  on  me  shine  \ 

7. — THE   LAMB. 

Thou  art  a  gentle  and  most  loving  Lamb, 

Wounded  to  give  us  balm  ; 
And  still,  wherever  sin  doth  reign, 

Thou  day  by  day  art  slain. 
When  will  man  cease  to  give  Thee  pain  ? 


NOT  KNOWING,  141 

8. — THE  LION. 

Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah, 
Thou  hast  prevailed  to  break  the  seals  of  grace 

For  man's  lost  race. 
Guarded  by  Thee,  we  fear  no  more 
The  lion  seeking  whom  he  may  devour  ; 

He  hath  no  power 

To  hurt  the  sheep 

Whom  thou  dost  keep. 
So  mighty,  yet  so  gentle.  Lord,  Thou  art, 
The  lambs  may  nestle  in  Thy  Lion's  Heart ! 


NOT  KNOWING. 

'"''  Not  knmving  the  things  that  shall  befall  me  there,^ 
Acts,  XX.  22.    • 

I  KNOW  not  what  shall  befall  me, 
God  hangs  a  mist  o'er  my  eyes, 

And  so  each  step  of  my  onward  path 
He  makes  new  scenes  to  rise, 

And  every  joy  He  sends  me,  comes 
As  a  sweet  and  glad  surprise. 


I  see  not  a  step  before  me. 
As  I  tread  on  another  year, 


142  NOT  KNOWING. 

But  the  past  is  still  in  God's  keeping, 
The  future  His  mercy  shall  clear, 

And  what  looks  dark  in  the  distance 
May  brighten  as  I  draw  near. 

For  perhaps  the  dreaded  future 
Has  less  bitter  than  I  think  ; 

The  Lord  may  sweeten  the  waters 
Before  I  stoop  to  drink, 

Or,  if  Marah  must  be  Marah, 
He  will  stand  beside  its  brink. 

It  may  be  He  keeps  waiting 
Till  the  coming  of  my  feet, 

Some  gift  of  such  rare  blessedness, 
Some  joy  so  strangely  sweet, 

That  my  lips  shall  only  tremble 
With  the  thanks  they  cannot  speak. 

O,  restful,  blissful  ignorance  ! 

'Tis  blessed  not  to  know. 
It  holds  me  in  those  mighty  arms 

Which  will  not  let  me  go, 
And  hushes  my  soul  to  rest 

On  the  bosom  which  loves  me  so. 

So  I  go  on  not  knowing ; 
I  would  not  if  I  might ; 


JUST  WHEN   THOU  WILT.       143 

I  would  rather  walk  in  the  dark  with  God, 

Than  go  alone  in  the  light ; 
I  would  rather  walk  with  Him  by  faith, 
.  Than  walk  alone  by  sight. 

My  heart  shrinks  back  from  trials 
Which  the  future  may  disclose, 

Yet  I  never  had  a  sorrow 

But  what  the  dear  Lord  chose  ; 

So  I  send  the  coming  tears  back, 

With  the  whispered  word,  "  He  knows." 


JUST  WHEN  THOU  WILT. 

Just  when  Thou  wilt,  O  Master,  call  ! 
Or  at  the  noon,  or  evening  fall. 
Or.  in  the  dark,  or  in  the  light, — 
Just  when  Thou  wilt,  it  must  be  right. 

Just  when  Thou  wilt,  O  Saviour,  come, 
Take  me  to  dwell  in  Thy  bright  home, — 
Or  when  the  snows  have  crowned  my  head, 
Or  ere  it  hath  one  silver  thread. 

Just  when  Thou  wilt,  O  Bridegroom,  say, 
"  Rise  up,  my  love,  and  come  away  ! '' 
Open  to  me  Thy  golden  gate 
Just  when  Thou  wilt,  or  soon,  or  late. 


144  ^^^^   CONDESCENSION. 

Just  when  Thou  wilt, — Thy  time  is  best, — 
Thou  shalt  appoint  my  hour  of  rest. 
Marked  by  the  Sun  of  perfect  love, 
Shining  unchangeably  above. 

Just  when  Thou  wilt  ! — No  choice  for  me  ! 
Life  is  a  gift  to  use  for  Thee  ; — 
Death  is  a  hushed  and  glorious  tryst 
With  Thee,  my  King,  my  Saviour,  Christ ! 


HIS  CONDESCENSION. 

Unworthy,  Lord,  are  we 
The  latchet  of  Thy  sandals  to  untie  ; 
Yet  Thou,  O  God,  from  Thine  eternity 
Dost  come  forth  clothed  with  our  humanity  ; — 
Most  wondrous  of  all  wondrous  mystery  ! — 
The  Maker,  and  yet  Servant,  of  our  race. 
Who,  in  the  awful  grandeur  of  Thy  grace 
Bending  before  us  on  Thy  human  knee. 
Dost  wash  the  dust  of  sin  from  our  poor  feet, 
That  they  may  tread  unchallenged   Heaven's 
street  ! 


THE   SEA-SIDE   WELL,  145 


THE  SEA-SIDE  WELL. 

{There  is  a  spring  of  sweet  water  below  tide-mark  on  the 
coast  of  Argylshire.) 

One  day  I  wandered  where  the  salt  sea  tide 

Backward  had  drawn  its  wave, 
And  found  a  spring  as  sweet  as  ere  hill-side 
To  wild  flowers  gave. 

Freshly  it  sparkled  in  the  sun*s  bright  look. 

And  'mid  its  pebbles  strayed, 
As  if  it  thought  to  join  a  happy  brook 
In  some  green  glade. 

But  soon  the  heavy  sea's  resistless  swell 

Came  rolling  in  once  more. 
Spreading  its  bitter  o'er  the  clear,  sweet  well, 
And  pebbled  shore. 

Like  a  fair  star  thick  buried  in  a  cloud, 

Or  life  in  the  grave's  gloom, 
The  well,  enwrapt  in  a  deep,  watery  shroud, 
Sank  to  its  tomb. 

As  one  who  by  the  beach  roams  far  and  wide. 

Remnants  of  wreck  to  save. 
Again  I  wandered  where  the  salt  sea  tide 
Withdrew  its  wave  ; 
10 


146  THE   SEA-SIDE   WELL, 

And  there  unchanged,  no  taint  in  all  its  sweet, 

No  anger  in  its  tone, 
Still,  as  it  thought  some  happy  brook  to  meet, 
The  well  flowed  on. 


While  waves  of  bitterness  rolled  o'er  its  head. 

Its  heart  had  folded  deep 
Within  itself,  and  quiet  fancies  led, 
As  in  a  sleep  ; 

Till,  when  the  ocean  loosed  its  heavy  chain, 

And  gave  it  back  to  day, 
Calmly  it  turned  to  its  own  life  again. 
And  gentle  way. 

Happy,  I  thought,  that  which  can  draw  its  life 

Deep  from  the  nether  springs, — 
Safe  'neath   the    pressure,    tranquil  'mid   the 
strife. 
Of  surface  things  : — 

Safe — for  the  sources  of  the  nether  springs 

Up  in  the  far  hill  lie  ; 
Calm, — for  their  life  its  power  and  freshness 
brings 
Down  from  the  sky. 


THE   SEA- SIDE   WELL.  147 

So,  should  temptation  threaten,  and  should  sin 

Roll  in  its  whelming  flood, 
Make  strong  the  fountain  of  Thy  grace  within 
My  soul,  O  God  ! 

When  sore  Thy  hand  doth  press,  and  waves  of 
Thine 
Afflict  me  like  a  sea — 
Deep  calling  unto  deep, — infuse  from  Source 
Divine 
Thy  peace  in  me  ! 

And  when  death's  tide,  as  with  a  brimful  cup 

Over  my  soul  doth  pour, 
Let  hope  survive,  a  well  that  springeth  up 
For  evermore  ! 

Above  my  head,  the  waves  may  come  and  go, 

Long  brood  the  deluge  dire, 
But  life  lies  hidden  in  the  depths  below, 
Till  waves  retire  ; — 

Till  Death,  that  reigns  with  overflowing  flood 

At  length  withdraws  its  sway, 
And  life  lies  sparkling  in  the  light  of  God 
And  endless  day. 


148  SACRIFICE, 


SACRIFICE. 

How  doth  the  law  of  sacrifice 

Through  all  Time's  checkered  reign  hold 
good  ! — 
No  treasure  won  till  paid  the  price, 

No  loss  regained,  no  ill  withstood. 

No  mortal  born  without  the  dew 
Of  solemn  pain  on  mother-brow  ; 

No  golden  harvest  reaped,  save  through 
The  toil  and  tearing  of  the  plough. 

No  Job's  integrity  complete. 

Till  tried  by  fiery  touch  of  woe  ; 
No  widowed,  waning  years  made  sweet. 

Till  Ruth  says,  "  Bid  me  not  to  go  !  " 

No  bloom  of  rose  till  long  compressed 
In  the  close  bondage  of  the  bud  ; 

No  nation  saved,  no  wrong  redressed. 
Without  some  flow  of  willing  blood. 

No  world  redeemed  from  shame  and  sin, 
No  Golden  Rule  of  life  made  plain, 

Till  Pilate's  court  Christ  enters  in, 

And  on  the  Mount  the  Lamb  is  slain  ! 


THE   CRUCIFIXION. 


149 


Shall  we  then  shrink,  when  round  our  brows 
The  thorny  crown  would  cut  its  mark  ? 

When  glory  of  our  Father's  house 

Must  be  attained  through  seas  of  dark  ? 

No, — bring  the  thorns  ! — we  bleed  and  smile  , 
And  through  the  gloom  we  take  our  way, — 

Fixing  our  patient  gaze  the  while 
On  the  faint  tinge  of  silver-gray. 

That  o'er  the  hills  shows  tenderly  ; — 
Till  bright  the  Morning-Star  doth  rise, 

And  saith  the  Saviour, — "  Thou,  with  Me, 
To-day  shalt  be  in  Paradise." 


THE  CRUCIFIXION. 

Ere  yet  the  early  morn  did  waken, 
Thou,  Thou  wert  taken 
Into  the  judgment-hall. 
There  to  be  judged  for  all. 
Guilty  of  death  they  found  Thee  ; 
In   mocking    purple    and    with    thorns    they 
crowned  Thee, — 

Nor  did  they  know. 
Thus  binding  Thee,  they  did  themselves  let  go. 


150  THE   WAITING. 


THE  WAITING. 

I  WAIT  and  watch  :  before  my  eyes, 

Methinks  the  night  grows  thin  and  gray; 

I  wait  and  watch  the  eastern  skies, 

To  see  the  golden  spears  uprise 
Beneath  the  oriflamme  of  day  ! 

Like  one  whose  limbs  are  bound  in  trance, 

I  hear  the  day-sounds  swell  and  grow, 
And  see  across  the  twilight  glance 
Troop  after  troop,  in  swift  advance, 
The  shining  ones  with  plumes  of  snow  ! 

I  know  the  errand  of  their  feet, 

I  know  what  mighty  work  is  theirs  ; 
I  can  but  lift  up  hands  unmeet 
The  threshing-floors  of  God  to  beat. 

And  speed  them  with  unworthy  prayers. 

I  will  not  dream  in  vain  despair 

The  steps  of  progress  wait  for  me  ; 
The  puny  leverage  of  a  hair 
The  planet's  impulse  well  may  spare, 
A  drop  of  dew  the  tided  sea. 


HE  GIVE  TH  SONGS  IN  THE  NIGHT.    1 5 1 

The  loss,  if  loss  there  be,  is  mine, — 
And  yet  not  mine,  if  understood  ; 
For  one  shall  grasp,  and  one  resign, 
One  drink  life's  rue,  and  one  its  wine, 
And  God  shall  make  the  balance  good. 

O  power  to  do  !  O  baffled  will  ! 

O  prayer  and  action,  ye  are  one  ! 
Who  may  not  strive,  may  yet  fulfill 
The  harder  task  of  standing  still, — 

And  good  but  wished  with  God  is  done ! 


HE  GIVETH  SONGS  IN  THE  NIGHT. 

We  praise  Thee  oft  for  hours  of  bliss, 

For  days  of  quiet  rest ; 
But,  oh,  how  seldom  do  we  feel 

That  pain  and  tears  are  best ! 

We  praise  Thee  for  the  shining  sun, 
For  kind  and  gladsome  ways  ; 

When  shall  we  learn,  O  Lord,  to  sing 
Through  weary  nights  and  days  ? 

We  praise  Thee  when  our  path  is  plain 
And  smooth  beneath  our  feet, 

But  fain  would  learn  to  welcome  pain, 
And  call  the  bitter  sweet. 


1^2   HE  GIVE  TH  SONGS  IN  THE  NIGHT, 

When  rises  first  the  blush  of  hope, 

Our  hearts  begin  to  sing  ; 
But  surely  not  for  this  alone 

Should  we  our  gladness  bring. 

Are  there  no  hours  of  conflict  fierce, 

No  weary  toils  and  pains, 
No  watchings  and  no  bitterness, 

That  bring  their  blessed  gains  ? — ■ 

They  bring  their  blessed  gains  full  well. 

In  truer  faith  and  love, 
And  patience,  and  sweet  gentleness, 

From  our  dear  home  above. 

Teach  Thou  our  weak  and  wandering  hearts 

Aright  to  read  Thy  way, — 
That  Thou  with  loving  hand  dost  trace 

Our  history  every  day. 

Then  every  thorny  crown  of  care, 

Worn  well  in  patience  now, 
Shall  grow  a  glorious  diadem 

Upon  a  faithful  brow. 

And  every  word  of  grief  shall  change, 

And  wave,  a  blessed  flower, 
And  lift  its  face  beneath  our  feet. 

To  bless  us  every  hour  ; 


AT  LAST.  153 

And  Sorrow's  face  shall  be  unveiled, 

And  we  at  last  shall  see 
Her  eyes  are  eyes  of  tenderness, 

Her  speech  but  echoes  Thee. 


THE  PILLARS  AND  THE  ROAD. 

Faith  and  Hope 
Are  the  bright  pillars  of  the  Golden  Gate, 
And  on  the  threshold  of  the  Kingdom  wait  ; 
But  Charity,  the  road,  winds  onward  through 
Into  the  Land  where  God  makes  all  things  new. 


AT  LAST. 

"Shine   on  me.    Lord,   for   other  light   doth 
wane  ; 

And  love  me,  Lord,  for  other  love  is  fled  ; 
Be  Thou  my  Hope, — all  other  hope  is  vain  ; 

Be  Thou  my  Joy, — all  other  joy  is  dead." 

*'  Dost  thou,  then,  dare  to  offer  these  to  Me  ? — • 
The  altar  cold,  whence  no  more  flame  leaps 
up,— 

The  broken  crumbs  where  others  feasted  free, — 
The  dregs  remaining  in  the  empty  cup  ! " 


154  TENDER  MERCIES. 

"  What  can  I  answer  Thee  ?  My  lips  are  dumb, 
Voiceless  my  shame,  and  mute  my  misery  ; 

Yet  if  thus  empty,  broken,  cold,  I  come, 

Is  not  my  need  the  greater,  Lord,  of  Thee  ?  " 

"  I   did   but  try  thee.      Knov/,  thy   treasures 
all,— 
Light,  love,  hope,  joy,  were  My  good  gifts  to 
thee  ; 
Which,  when  they  turned  to  snares,  I  did  re- 
call, 
So  thou  should'st  find  them  all — and  more — 
in  Me." 


•      TENDER  MERCIES. 

Tender  mercies,  on  my  way 
Falling  softly  like  the  dew. 

Sent  me  freshly  every  day, 
I  will  bless  the  Lord  for  you. 

Though  I  have  not  all  I  would, 
Though  to  greater  bliss  I  go. 

Every  present  gift  of  good 
To  Eternal  Love  I  owe. 


MAXIM  us.  155 

Source  of  all  that  comforts  me, 
Well  of  joy  for  which  I  long, 

Let  the  song  I  sing  to  Thee 
Be  an  everlasting  song. 


MAXIMUS. 

Many,  if  God  should  make  them  kings. 
Might  not  disgrace  the  throne  He  gave  ; 

How  few  who  could  as  well  fulfill 
The  holier  office  of  a  slave  ! 

I  hold  him  great  who,  for  Love's  sake, 
Can  give  with  generous,  earnest  will, — 

Yet  he  who  takes,  for  Love's  sweet  sake, 
I  think  I  hold  more  generous  still. 

I  prize  the  instinct  that  can  turn 

From  vain  pretence  with  proud  disdain  ; 

But  more  I  prize  a  simple  heart 
Paying  credulity  with  pain. 

It  may  be  hard  to  gain,  and  still 
To  keep  a  lowly,  steadfast  heart ; 

Yet  he  who  loses  has  to  fill 
A  harder  and  a  truer  part. 


[56  /^  IT  PEACE? 

Glorious  it  is  to  wear  the  crown 
Of  a  deserved  and  pure  success  ; 

He  who  knows  how  to  fail  has  won 
A  crown  whose  lustre  is  not  less. 

Great  may  he  be  who  can  command 
And  rule  with  just  and  tender  sway  ; 

Yet  is  Diviner  wisdom  taught 
Better  by  him  who  can  obey. 

Blessed  are  those  who  die  for  God, 
And  earn  the  Martyr's  crown  of  light  ; 

Yet  he  who  lives  for  God  may  be 
A  greater  Conqueror  in  His  sight. 


IS  IT  PEACE  ? 

2  Kings,  ix.  19. 

Better  to  be  driven 
By  adverse  winds  upon  the  coast  of  Heaven  ; 

Better  to  be 
As  it  were,  shipwrecked  upon  its  rocks 

By  fiercest  shocks, 
Than  to  sail  on  across  a  waveless  sea 
Into  a  Christless  immortality. 


THE   SONG   OF   THE  BRIDE,      157 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  BRIDE. 

Call  all  who  love  Thee,  Lord,  to  Thee ; 

Thou  kiiowest  how  they  long 
To  leave  these  broken  lays,  and  aid 

In  Heaven's  unceasing  song  ; 
How  they  long,  Lord,  to  go  to  Thee, 

And  hail  Thee  with  their  eyes, — 
Thee  in  Thy  blessedness,  and  all 

The  nations  of  the  skies. 

All  who  have  loved  Thee  and  done  well, 

Of  every  age,  creed,  clime  ; 
The  host  of  saved  ones  from  the  ends 

And  all  the  worlds  of  time  ; 
The  wise  in  matter  and  in  mind, 

The  soldier,  sage,  and  priest. 
King,  prophet,  hero,  saint,  and  bard, 

The  greatest  soul  and  least ; 

The  old,  and  young,  and  very  babe. 

The  maiden  and  the  youth. 
All  re-born  Angels  of  our  age, — 

The  age  of  heaven  and  truth  ; 
The  rich,  the  poor,  the  good,  the  bad, 

Redeemed  alike  from  sin  ; — 
Lord,  close  the  book  of  time,  and  let 

Eternity  begin ! 


158     GIVING  AS    THE   WORLD   GIVES, 


GIVING  AS  THE  WORLD  GIVES. 

Out  on  the  wayside  a  little  flower  pined, 

Soiled  with  the  dust  and  parched  by  the  heat; 
Over  the  sky  came  a  cloud  on  the  wind, 

Fresh  from  the  ocean's  kiss,  rosy  and  fleet, 
*'  Give  me  one  drop,"  prayed  the  pale,  fainting 
flower, — 
••  Only  one  drop  of  the  dew  in  thy  breast  !  " 
"  Nay,"  said  the  cloudlet,  "  I  hie  to  the  bower 
Where  the  rose  and  the  lily  are  watching 
the  west. 
One   waits  for   my   coming   to    brighten    her 
bloom. 
The   other,  new  sweetness   to  add   to   her 
breath." 
*•  With  them,"  cried  the  flower,  "  'tis  but  tint 
and  perfume, 
With  me,  'tis  a  matter  of  life  or  of  death  : 
They  dwell  where  the  sweet-singing  brooklet 
goes  by, 
And  cools  the  hot  air  with  its  moist  little  feet ; 
Thick  screen-work  of  oak  leaves  above  them 
hangs  high, 
And  shuts  out  the  sun  from  their  virgin  re- 
treat ; 


CHRIST'S  GIVING. 


159 


But  I,  on  the  edge  of  the  dust-powdered  way, 
Stand  out  in  the  fierce  blazing  eye  of  the 
noon ; — 

Ah,  give  but  one  drop  of  thy  fullness,  I  pray. 
Lest  I  should  sink  in  unwakening  swoon  !  " 

But  the  cloud  went  its  way  ;  and  more  fair 

blushed  the  rose, 

And  the  lily  her  daintier  odor  flung  wide, — 

Nor  came  back  the  cloud  at  the  daylight's  still 

close, 

To  see  where  the  flow'ret  had  fallen  and  died. 


CHRIST'S  GIVING. 

St.  John,  XV.  13. 

The  spirit  of  self-sacrifice 
Stays  not  to  count  its  price. 
Christ  did  not  of  His  mere  abundance  cast 
Into  the  empty  treasury  of  man's  store  ; 

The  First  and  Last 
Gave  until  even  He  could  give  no  more  : 
His  very  living. 
Such  was  Christ's  giving. 


l6o       TO  ABIDE  m    THE  FLESH, 


'TO   ABIDE  IN   THE   FLESH    IS  MORE 
NEEDFUL." 

I  WILL  take  refuge  in  my  God 

From  man  and  sin  and  woe ; 
Fain  would  I  drop  this  mortal  clod, 

To  know  as  angels  know, 
And  love  as  angels  love, 

And  be  as  angels  pure  ; — 
It  is  all  light,  pure  light  above, 

Bliss  unalloyed  and  sure. 

But  shall  I  shun  the  sacred  fight 

Which  good  maintains  with  ill  ? 
No  ;  strong  in  my  Redeemer's  might, . 

Be  mine  to  wrestle  still. 
Here  only,  in  this  strife, 

Can  I  His  soldier  be  ; 
Here  only  spend  or  lose  a  life 

For  Him  who  died  for  me. 

Nor  would  I,  too  impatient,  pry 

The  awful  veil  within  ; 
Or  scan  th'  appalling  mystery 

Of  God-resisting  sin. 


SEA- WEED,  i6i 

Oh,  let  me  be  content 

For  Heaven's  own  light  to  stay : 
The  night — the  night  is  well-nigh  spent, — 

Ere  long  it  will  be  day. 


SAINTS. 

These  "  little  ones  "  whom  we  despise, 
These  are  the  saints  whom  God  doth  canonize; 
Yea,  humble  names  we  know  not,  or  forget, 
High  in  the  calendar  of  Heaven  are  set. 

Not  lifted  eyes, 
But  contrite  hearts,  find  favor  in  the  skies. 


SEA-WEED. 

Not  always  unimpeded  can  I  pray, 
Nor,  pitying  saint,  thine  intercession  claim  ; 
Too  closely  clings  the  burden  of  the  da.y, 
And  all  the  mint  and  anise  that  I  pay 
But  swells  my  debt  and  deepens  my  self-blame. 
II 


1 62  SEA- WEED. 

Shall  I  less  patience  have  than  thou,  who  know 
That  thou  revisit'st  all  who  wait  for  thee, 
Nor  only  fiU'st  the  unsounded  deeps  below, 
But  dost  refresh  with  punctual  overflow 
The  rifts  where  unregarded  mosses  be  ? 

The  drooping  sea-weed  hears,  in  night  abyssed. 
Far  and  more  far  the  wave's  receding  shocks. 
Nor  doubts,  for  all  the  darkness  and  the  mist, 
That  the  pale  shepherdess  will  keep  her  tryst. 
And  shoreward  lead  again  her  foam-fleeced 
flocks. 

For  the  same  wave  that  rims  the  Carib  shore 
With  momentary  brede  of  pearl  and  gold, 
Goes  hurrying  thence  to  gladden  with  its  roar 
Lorn  weeds  bound  fast  on  rocks  of  Labrador, 
By  Love  Divine  on  one  sweet  errand  rolled. 

And  though  Thy  healing  waters  far  withdraw, 
I,  too,  can  wait  and  feed  on  hope  of  Thee, 
And  of  the  dear  recurrence  of  Thy  law, — 
Sure  that  the  parting  grace  that  morning  saw 
Abides  its  time  to  come  in  search  of  me ! 


IN  PORT, 


IN  PORT. 


163 


When  the  great  Ship  of  Life, 
Surviving,  though  shattered,  the  tumult  and 

strife 
Of  earth's  angry  element, — masts  broken  short, 
Decks    drenched,    bulwarks    beaten, — drives 

safe  into  port  ; 
When  the  Pilot  of  Galilee,  seen  on  the  strand. 
Stretches  over  the  waters  a  welcoming  hand  ; 
When,  heeding  no  longer  the  sea's  baffled  roar, 
The  mariner  turns  to  his  rest  evermore  ; 
What  \vill  then  be  the  answer  the  helmsman 

must  give  ? 
Will  it  be,  "  Lo,  our  log-book  !  Thus  once  we 

did  live 
In  the  zones  of  the  South  ;  here,  eastward  we 

turned  ; 
The  stars  failed  us  there  ;  here,  land  we  dis- 
cerned 
On  our  lee  ;  there,  the  storm  overtook  us  at 

last  ; 
That  day  went  the  bowsprit,  the  next  day  the 

mast  ; 
There,    the    mermen    came    round    us  ;    and 

there,  we  saw  bask 
A  syren."     The  Chief  of  the  Port,  will  He  ask 


1 64  ^^IS  JEWELS. 

Any  one  of  these  questions  ?     I  cannot  think 

so  ! — 
But,  "  What  is  the  last  Bill  of  Health  you  can 

show  ?  " 
Not,  How  fared  the  soul  through  the  trials 

she  passed  ? 
But,  What  is  the  state  of  that  soul  at  the  last  ? 


HIS  JEWELS. 

In  the  hush  and  the  gray  of  the  twilight, 
Looking  out  o'er  a  shadowy  sea, 

Half-way  between  musing  and  dreaming, 
In  a  vision  it  cometh  to  me, 

When  the  Lord  maketh  up  His  jewels, 
What  some  of  my  friends  will  be. 

One  keeps,  in  her  loving  compassion, 
Wide  room  for  all  under  the  sun, 

White  hands  of  strong  help  she  outreacheth 
To  captive  and  poor  and  undone  ; — 

I  know  she  will  shine  as  a  Ruby 
On  the  breast  of  the  Crucified  One. 


HIS  JEWELS.  165 

Another,  some  wonderful  angel, 

In  passing,  has  touched  with  his  wing  ; 

Her  touch  has  the  magic  creative, 

Her  words  can  both  sparkle  and  sing  ; — 

As  a  Diamond  catching  the  sunlight, 
She  will  answer  the  smile  of  the  King. 

Still  another  so  richly  is  dowered 

Through  passion  and  longing  and  pain, 

Through  the  darkness  of  deep  desolation, 
The  pitiless  beating  of  rain  ; — 

I  know  I  shall  see  her  as  Amber 

In  the  robe  of  the  Lamb  that  was  slain. 

As  a  Priestess  of  Song,  one  abideth 

In  her  place  by  the  altar-side, 
And  the  wine  of  glad  melody  poureth. 

The  bread  of  sweet  hymns  doth  divide  ; 
I  think  as  a  Sapphire  most  precious 

She  will  deck  the  pure  brow  of  the  Bride. 

Deep  under  her  smile,  one  presseth 
Such  pain  of  bereavement  down, — 

Such  exquisite  travail  of  genius, 

Such  rustling  of  hopes  that  are  brown  ; — 

As  an  Opal,  far  inwardly  burning, 
She  will  shine  in  the  Master's  crown. 


l66  HIS  JEWELS, 

So  still  and  so  holy,  one  other 

The  darkest  of  pathways  hath  trod, 

Yet  stained  no  white  hem  of  her  garments — 
Lie  softly  upon  her,  O  sod  ! 

Meseems  as  a  Pearl  that  is  priceless, 
She  will  rest  on  the  bosom  of  God. 

One's  soul  is  an  Amethyst  tender  ; 

One  seemeth  an  Emerald  rare  ; 
And  one  in  the  likeness  of  Jasper, 

Of  a  truth,  is  surpassingly  fair  ; — 
They  will  shine  as  the  stars,  and  forever. 

In  the  robe  that  the  Bridegroom  doth  wear. 

O  friends,  I  am  glad  in  your  glory. 
To  your  preciousness  I  am  made  free  ; 

But  why  are  my  longing  eyes  holden 
From  seeing  what  cometh  to  me  ! 

Yet  if  I  with  His  jewels  am  numbered, 
What  matters  it  which  I  shall  be  ? 

The  stars  have  a  differing  brightness, 

Yet  all  upon  each  do  shine  ; 
All  joy  in  the  wide  resplendence. 

None  thinketh  of  *'  thine  "  or  "  mine  "  ; — 
All  know  that  the  source  of  their  glory, 

O  Sun  of  the  Kingdom,  is  Thine  ! 


M  YSTER  Y  OF  CHA STI SEMEN T.      167 
THE  MYSTERY  OF  CHASTISEMENT. 

*'  We  glory  in  tribulations''' 

Within  this  leaf,  to  every  eye 
So  little  worth,  doth  hidden  lie 
Most  rare  and  subtle  fragrancy  ; 

Would'st  thou  its  secret  strength  unbind  ? 
Crush  it,  and  thou  shalt  perfume  find, 
Sweet  as  Arabia's  spicy  wind. 

In  this  dull  stone,  so  poor,  and  bare 
Of  shape  or  lustre,  patient  care 
Will  find  for  thee  a  jewel  rare. 

But  first  must  skillful  hands  essay, 
With  file  and  flint,  to  clear  away 
The  film  which  hides  its  fire  from  day. 

This  leaf,  this  stone  !  It  is  thy  heart  ; 
It  must  be  crushed  by  pain  and  smart. 
It  must  be  cleansed  by  sorrow's  art — 

Ere  it  will  yield  a  fragrance  sweet. 
Ere  it  will  shine,  a  jewel  meet 
To  lay  before  thy  dear  Lord's  feet. 


1 68  IN    THE    GLOAMING, 


"GOD    BE    MERCIFUL    TO    ME,    A 
SINNER!" 

When  Christ  across  the  tempest  of  our  will 
Walketh  in   grandeur,    saying, — "  Peace  !   be 

still  ! " 
Then  shall  the  surging  cares  within  us  cease, 

And  we  find  peace  ;- — 
Yet  not  a  peace  self-satisfied,  secure. 
But  earnest,  watchful,  patient  to  endure  ;  — 
Not  the  "  I  thank  Thee  "of  the  Pharisee, 
But  that  of  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  !  " 


IN  THE  GLOAMING. 

In  the  gloaming,  in  the  gloaming. 
When  our  thoughts,  like  bees  home-coming. 
Stir  and  buzz  about  our  hearts  before  they  settle 
for  the  night. 
Come  the  cares  we  thought  departed. 
Making  us  once  more  sore-hearted, 
Cares  that  in  the  busy  sunlight  hid  themselves 
out  01  our  sight. 


IN    THE    GLOAMING,  169 

For  they  know  the  hour  is  haunted, 
That  our  spirits  then  are  daunted 
By  the  shadows  of  the  darkness  that  is  gather- 
ing o'er  our  heart ; 
And  the  memories  come  flocking, 
With  a  stern,  resistless  knocking, 
And   our  souls,  with   sorrow   filled,  at   every 
ghostly  shadow  start. 

Can  we  never  quell  the  aching  ? — 
Lay  the  ghosts  that  thus  are  taking 
From  our  lives  the  youth,  the  freshness,  leav- 
ing naught  but  grief  and  pain  ? 
Yes,  we  know  there  comes  a  morrow 
Hastened  by  each  God-sent  sorrow. 
When  unanswered  human   longings  will   not 
haunt  us  e'er  again. 

Then  we'll  no  more  dread  the  gloaming. 
Nor  the  shades  of  night  swift-coming. 
For  the  shadows  show  the  presence  of  a  great, 
if  distant,  light. 
That  will  break  upon  our  vision. 
Shining  from  the  fields  Elysian, 
Driving  ghostly  cares  and  sorrows  evermore 
from  out  our  sight. 


I70 


ANGELS. 


ANGELS. 


"  O  Messengers  of  God,  are  ye  beside  us  ? 

Fair,  loving  Angels,  are  ye  tarrying  nigh, 
With   gentle   hands  for    e'el*   outstretched   to 
guide  us  ?  " 

We  ask  in  childhood,  looking  to  the  sky. 

A    moment's    pause  ! — then;    sound    through 
silence  piercing — 
Companions    shouting    from   the    primrose 
.     dells - 
The  thrush  his  half-learnt  roundelay  rehears- 
ing— 
Calls  us  to  earth,  and  all  th.e  dream  dispels. 

And  on  through  life,  longing  for  hands  to  guide 
us. 
Our  hearts  repeat  again  with  yearning  sigh, — 
"  O  messengers  of  God,  are  ye  beside  us  ? 
Strong,    loving    Angels,     are     ye    tarrying 
nigh  ?  " 

And,  asking  so,  we  learn  the  lesson  slowly ; 

Each  day's  events  may  be  an  Angel  sent 
With  message  for  the  trustful  heart  and  lowly, 

That  holds  no  idol  of  self-made  intent. 


ANGELS,  171 

Yea,  and  the  daily  things  our  senses  greeting, 
The  green  bud  bursting  in  the  dusky  hedge, 

The  solemn   clouds  through   evening   silence 
fleeting. 
Above  some  city  housetop's  blackened  edge  ; 

The  wandering  butterfly,  whose  pinions  flutter 
Adown  some  narrow  street  in  days  of  spring, 

Have    brought  sweet   thoughts  which   words 
may  never  utter, 
Unto  the  mourning  and  the  sufl"ering. 

The  fame  of  lofty  deeds,  whereat  we  wonder, 
And  hear  in  them  a  voice  that  calls  us  on  ; 

The  sight  of  means,  whereby  good  deeds  we 
ponder 
Turn  by  occasion  into  good  deeds  done  ; 

A  smile  unasked,  a  wayside  salutation, 

The  cloudless  brightness  of  some  household 
face, — 

By  these  how  often  God  sends  forth  salvation 
To  souls  that  faint  in  their  appointed  place. 

Nor  always  are  they  messengers  whose  beauty 
Is  to  our  gaze  revealed  without  disguise  ; 

They  meet  us,  too,  in  form  of  sternest  duty, 
Whose  fjuerdon  far  in  the  Hereafter  lies. 


172 


''NO   MORE    sea: 


All  hours  of  sorrow,  all  distress  and  danger, 
The  coming-  of  a  thousand  daily  cares, — 

Aye,  Death  itself  may  enter  as  a  stranger. 
And  prove  an  Angel  honored — unawares. 


CIRCLES. 

As  years  form  circles  in  the  forest  tree. 

Each  year  we  see, 
Within  us,  out  of  sight, 

Maketh  a  circle  for  eternity, 
Dark  or  bright. 


-  NO  MORE  SEA." 

*'  So  He  bringeth  them  unto  the  haven  7vhere  they  would 
be."     Psalms,  cvii.  30. 

No  dash  of  waters  on  the  rocky  shore  ? 
•    No  hollow  moan  in  throbbing  ocean-caves  ? 
No  hungry  breakers'  deep  and  angry  roar  .? 
No    wind-tossed    ships  ?    no    wrecks  1     no 
watery  graves  ? 

And  no  more  sea  ? 
There  is  the  haven.  Lord,  where  we  would  be  ! 


''NO  MORE    sea:'  173 

No  surge  of  sin  to  beat  against  the  soul  ? 

No  passion-floods,  with  legacies  of  mire  ? 
No  mighty  billows  of  despair  to  roll 

Unchecked,  as  sent  by  God's  avenging  ire  ? 
And  no  more  sea  ? 
There  is  the  haven  where  we  fain  would  be  ! 

No  chilling  tides  from  icy  poles  of  doubt  ? 

No  undercurrents  of  the  soul's  unrest, 
That  ever  o'er  a  self-drowned  world  sends  out 

Its  winged  affections  o^  a  fruitless  quest  ? 
And  no  more  sea  ? 
*Tis  there,  O  Lord,  our  weary  hearts  would  be  ! 

No  heavy  surf  of  grief,  to  beat  and  beat 

Upon  the  shining  sands  where  Joy  doth  write 
Her  rhythmic  hopes  and  promises  most  sweet, 
And  slowly  blur  and  blot  them  from  our 
sight  ? 

And  no  more  sea  ? 
There  is  the  haven  where  our  souls  would  be  ? 

Poor,  wretched,  weak,  we  shiver  on  the  shore 
Where  Death's  dread  ocean  breaketh  heav- 
ily;. 
Bear  us,  dear  Christ,  the  misty  waters  o'er. 
To  where  that  sweet  Life-river  floweth  free — 
But  no  more  sea  ! 
O  Blessed  Saviour,  there  our  souls  would  be  ! 


174 


THIS  I  STEADFASTLY  BELIEVE. 


"ALL  THIS  I  STEADFASTLY  BELIEVE." 

Yes  !  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  Thine  ! 

Thou  art  my  joy, — myself,  my  only  grief  ; 
Hear    my   complaint,    low    bending    at    Thy 
shrine, — 
"  Lord,   I   believe  ;    help  Thou  mine  unbe- 
lief!" 

Unworthy  even  to  approach  so  near, 

My  soul  lies  trembling  like  a  summer's  leaf; 

Yet  oh,  forgive  !    I  doubt  not,  though  I  fear,— 
"  Lord,  I   believe  ;    help  Thou  mine  unbe- 
lief !  " 

True,  I  am  weak,  ah,  very  weak, — but  then 
I  know  the  source  whence  I  can  draw  relief; 

And,  though  repulsed,  I  still  can  plead  again, 
"  Lord,  I    believe  ;   help  Thou  mine    unbe- 
lief!" 

Oh,  draw  me  nearer  !  far,  too  far  away, 

The   beamings   of  Thy    brightness  are  too 
brief ; 
While  Faith,  though  fainting,  still  hath  strength 
to  pray, 
"Lord,  I  believe  ;   help  Thou   mine   unbe- 
lief!" 


WHO   SHALL  DELLVER  ME?      175 


WHO  SHALL  DELIVER  ME  ? 

God  strengthen  me  to  bear  Myself ; 
That  heaviest  weight  of  all  to  bear, 
Inalienable  weight  of  care. 

All  others  are  outside  myself ; 
I  lock  my  door  and  bar  them  out, 
The  turmoil,  tedium,  gad-about. 

I  lock  my  door  upon  myself, 

And  bar  them  out ;  but  who  shall  wall 

Self  from  myself,  most  loathed  of  all  ? 

If  I  could  once  lay  down  myself. 
And  start  self-purged  upon  the  race 
That  all  must  run  !  Death  runs  apace. 

God  harden  me  against  myself, 

This  coward  with  pathetic  voice 

Who  craves  for  ease  and  rest  and  joys  : 

Myself,  arch-traitor  to  myself  ; 

My  hollowest  friend,  my  deadliest  toe, 

My  clog  whatever  road  I  go. 


176    HYMN  OF  THE  i^TH  CENTURY. 

Yet  One  there  is  can  curb  myself, 
Can  roll  the  strangling  load  from  me, 
Break  off  the  yoke  and  set  me  free. 


SYMPATHY. 

Ask  God  to  give  thee  skill 

In  comfort's  art, 
That  thou  may'st  consecrated  be 

And  set  apart 
Unto  a  life  of  sympathy. 
For  heavy  is  the  weight  of  ill 

In  every  heart  ; 
And  comforters  are  needed  much 

Of  Christ-like  touch. 


HYMN  OF  THE  14TH  CENTURY. 

Fighting  the  battle  of  life 
^     With  a  weary  heart  and  head, 
For  in  the  midst  of  the  strife 
The  banners  of  joy  are  fled  ! 


HYMN  OF  THE  \\TH  CENTURY.     177 

Fled  and  gone  out  of  sight, 

When  I  thought  they  were  so  near, — 
And  the  murmur  of  hope  this  night 

Is  dying  away  on  mine  ear. 

Fighting  alone  to-night — 

With  not  even  a  stander-by 
To  cheer  me  on  in  the  fight, 

Or  to  hear  me  when  I  cry  ; 
Only  the  Lord  can  hear. 

Only  the  Lord  can  see 
The  struggle  within,  how  dark  and  drear, 

Though  quiet  the  outside  be. 

Lord,  I  would  fain  lie  still 

And  quiet,  behind  my  shield  ; 
But  make  me  to  know  Thy  will, 

For  fear  I  should  ever  yield. 
Even  as  now  my  hands, 

So  doth  my  folded  will 
Lie  waiting  Thy  commands 

Without  one  anxious  thrill. 

But  as  with  sudden  pain 

My  hands  unfold  and  clasp. 
So  doth  my  will  stand  up  again 

And  taketh  its  old  firm  grasp. 
12 


J  78  HIS   GARMENT'S  HEM, 

Nothing  but  perfect  trust, 
And  love  of  Thy  perfect  will. 

Can  raise  me  out  of  the  dust, 
And  bid  my  fears  lie  still. 

O  Lord,  Thou  hidest  Thy  face. 

And  the  battle  clouds  prevail  ! 
O  grant  me  Thy  sweet  grace 

That  I  may  not  utterly  fail  ! 
Fighting  alone  to-night 

With  what  a  l)eating  heart ; 
Lord  Jesus,  in  the  fight 

O  stand  not  Thou  apart  ! 


HIS  GARMENT'S  HEM. 

The  morning  comes  across  the  hills — 
The  green  and  golden  hills  of  June — 

And  stirs  the  air  with  blissful  thrills, 
And  wakes  the  landscape  into  tune. 

The  lily  swings  her  fragrant  bells, 
The  birds  make  vocal  all  the  trees, 

And  on  the  beach  long  tidal  swells 
Break  into  "  music  of  the  seas." 


THE   KINGDOM  OF  GOD.  179 

The  breezes  srng-  their  wandering  song, 
And  every  insect's  burnished  throat 

Gives  forth  its  chirp  of  rapture  strong, 
And  every  wing  its  strident  note. 


My  lips  alone  send  out  no  sound. 
No  sign  of  sharing  in  the  strain  ; 

Yet,  Lord,  Thou  knowest  what  deep  wound 
Is  gently  closed,  and  eased  of  pain. 

I  seem  to  touch  Thy  garment's  hem 
In  all  these  wondrous  works  of  Thine  ; 

And  straightway  from  Thy  heart,  through  them, 
Flows  healing  virtue  into  mine. 


THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD. 

I  SAY  to  thee— do  thou  repeat 

To  the  first  man  thou  mayest  meet 

In  lane,  highway,  or  open  street, — 

That  he  and  we  and  all  men  move 

Under  a  canopy  of  love, 

As  broad  as  the  blue  sky  above ; 


8o  THE   KINGDOM   OF  GOD, 

That  doubt  and  trouble,  fear  and  pain 
And  anguish,  all  are  shadows  vain  ; 
That  death  itself  shall  not  remain  ; 

That  weary  deserts  we  may  tread, 
A  dreary  labyrinth  may  thread. 
Through  dark  ways  underground  be  led  : 

Yet  if  one  Guide  we  will  obey, 
The  dreariest  path,  the  darkest  way, 
Shall  issue  out  in  heavenly  day  ; 

And  we,  on  divers  shores  now  cast. 
Shall  meet,  our  perilous  voyage  past. 
All  in  our  Father's  home  at  last. 

And  ere  thou  leave  him,  say  thou  this 
Yet  one  word  more, — they  only  miss 
The  winning  of  that  final  bliss, 

Who  will  not  count  it  true  that  love, 
Blessing,  not  cursing,  rules  above. 
And  that  in  it  we  live  and  move. 

And  one  thing  further  make  him  know,— 
That  to  believe  these  things  are  so, 
This  firm  faith  never  to  forego, 

Despite  of  all  that  seems  at  strife 
With  blessing,  all  with  curses  rife, — 
That  this  is  blessing,  this  is  life. 


GRA  CE   FOR    GRA  CE.  1 8 1 


GRACE  FOR  GRACE. 

Grace  for  this  day's  work  or  burden, 

Till  to-day  is  yesterday, 
And  another  Grace  to-morrow, 

When  it  shall  be  called  to-day. 

Grace,  like  manna,  daily  falling  ; 

Yet  I  cannot  store  away 
For  to-morrow's  need  the  portion 

Which  God  gave  me  yesterday. 

As,  upon  the  hallowed  table. 

Priestly  hands  renewed  the  bread, 

So,  the  old  Grace,  Christ  retaking, 
Grants  a  fresh  supply  instead. 

One  Grace,  when  sweet  revelations 
Pass  before  my  raptured  sight, 

And  my  soul  is  overflowing 
With  unspeakable  delight, — 

And  another  Grace,  sufficient 
For  my  spirit's  direst  need, 

When  some  secret  thorn  is  pressing, 
And  the  path  is  dark  indeed. 


1 82     DEATH  AND    THE  JEWELS. 

Grace  in  fullness — using  rightly, 
To  the  soul  shall  more  be  given, 

Interest  on  interest  drawing 

From  its  treasure  laid  in  heaven. 

As  the  v^aves  in  sure  succession 
Swell  and  break  upon  the  shore. 

So  one  Grace  breaks  o'er  another 
On  our  souls  for  evermore. 

Grace  abounding  o'er  the  story 
Of  temptation  and  of  sin  ; 

Grace  for  Grace,  till  Grace  is  Glory 
To  the  heart  that  let  it  in. 


DEATH  AND  THE  JEWELS. 

*•  I  AM  no  thief,"  quoth  Death, — '•  I  do  but  bor- 
row 
The  treasure  that  I  take  from  thee  to-day ; 
Christ  will  restore  thee  four-fold  on  the  mor- 
row ; 
•     For  when  He  comes  again,  He  will  repay." 

I  looked  at  Death,  my  heart  beat  loud  and  faster : 
"  In  loan  for  Christ  these  treasures  I  receive; 

I  am  the  faithful  servant  of  thy  Master  ; 

Doubt  not,"  he  said,  "  but  earnestly  believe." 


THE    VOYAGE    OF  EARTH.        183 

"  Know'st  thou,"  I  cried,  "  that  these  are  all 
my  pleasures, 

Which  thou  art  bearing  to  the  far-off  Land  ? " 
As  I  reluctantly  beheld  my  treasures 

Shining  like  pearls  in  his  dim  orient  hand. 

"  Fear  not,"  said  he,  as  from  my  sight  he  slowly 
Vanished,— the  sunlight  on  his  raven  wings 

Making  them  shine,  half-awful  and  half-holy, — 
"  These  are  the  jewels  of  the  King  of  Kings. 

**  These  are  His  jewels,  and  to  Him   I  bear 
them, 
To  deck  His  robes  of  immortality  ; 
These  are  thy  treasures,  and   the  Christ  will 
wear  them, 
That    where   thy   treasures    are,   thy  heart 
may  be." 


THE  VOYAGE  OF  EARTH. 

This  gray  round  world,  so  full  of  life. 
Of  hate  and  love,  of  calm  and  strife, 

Still,  ship-like,  on  for  ages  fares. 
And  holds  its  course  so  smooth  and  true,- 
For  all  the  madness  of  the  crew  : — 

It  must  have  better  rule  than  theirs. 


l84        QUESTIOJSr  AND  ANSWER. 


QUESTION  AND  ANSWER. 

Before  the  Sultan's  throne  appears 
The  Mewlana,  with  lofty  brow. — 

"  Thy  wisdom's  fame  hath  reached  mine  ears  ; 
Then  answer  me  one  question  now. 

"  Four  different  sects,  well  knowest  thou, 

My  faithful  Mussulmans  divide  ; 
And  of  these  four,  I  fain  would  know, 

With  which  does  Allah's  favor  side  }  " 

The  Sultan  spake,  and  waited  dumb  : 

The  Mewlana  gazed  silently 
A  moment  round  the  audience-room. 

And  then  he  said,  on  bended  knee  ; — 

**  Thou  in  whose  throne  the  faithful  race 
The  throne  of  Heaven  reflected  see  ; 

Protect  me  with  thy  shield  of  grace, — 
Then  shall  my  answer  be  to  thee  : 

••  Thou  sit'st  enthroned  here  in  a  hall, 
To  which  four  doors  thy  slaves  admit. 

And  all  thy  splendor  bursts  on  all, 
Through  whichso'er  they  enter  it. 


THY  WAY— NOT  MINE.  185 

"  That  I  did  not  mistake  the  way, 

Thy  messenger  the  praise  must  claim  ; 

And,  dazzled  by  the  bright  display, 
I  know  not  now  which  way  I  came." 


HUMILITY. 

Humility  befits 

The  contrite  heart  that  sits 
In  meek  submission  at  the  Saviour's  feet  ;  - 
To  bend  is  for  the  bruised  reed  most  meet. 


THY  WAY— NOT  MINE. 

Thy  way — not  mine,  O  Lord, 

However  dark  it  be  ! 
Lead  me  by  Thine  own  hand  ; 

Choose  out  the  path  for  me. 

Smooth  let  it  be  or  rough, 
It  will  be  still  the  best ; 

Winding  or  straight,  it  leads 
Right  onward  to  Thy  rest. 


l86  THY  WA  Y—NOT  MINE. 

I  dare  not  choose  my  lot ; 

I  would  not,  if  I  might ; 
Gioose  Thou  for  me,  my  God, 

So  shall  I  walk  aright. 

The  kingdom  that  I  seek 
Is  Thine  ;  so  let  the  way 

That  leads  to  it  be  Thine, 
Else  surely  I  might  stray. 

Take  Thou  my  cup,  and  it 
With  joy  or  sorrow  fill ; 

As  best  to  Thee  may  seem, 
Choose  Thou  my  good  and  ilL 

Choose  Thou  for  me  my  friends, 
My  sickness,  or  my  health  ; 

Choose  Thou  my  cares  for  me, 
My  poverty  or  wealth. 

Not  mine — not  mine  the  choice, 
In  great  things  or  in  small ; 

Be  Thou  my  Guide,  my  Strengths 
My  Wisdom,  and  my  All. 


THE  VINE. 


PART   I. 

A  Vine  went  wandering  o'er  the  ground, 
Half-choked  with  weeds,  oft  smeared  with 

dust  ; 
Chance  dews  it  turned  to  mould  and  rust, 

And  nought  but  leaves  was  on  it  found  ; 

Till  in  its  path  an  Oak-tree  stood, 

And  round  his  trunk  it  skyward  twined, 
To  learn  that  oaks  were  strong  and  kind. 

And  feel  that  higher  air  was  good. 

Yet  all  its  bliss  it  could  not  know, 

Till — helped  by  timely  suns  and  showers — 
Its  fair  new  life  burst  forth  in  flowers. 

And  tiny  fruit  began  to  show. 

187 


1 88  THE    VINE. 

The  spheres  expanded  hour  by  hour, 
The  green  through  pink  to  purple  grew, 
And,  borne  on  every  breeze  that  blew, 

The  fragrance  sweetened  wold  and  bower. 

Yet  never  boasted  once  the  Vine, — 
"  This  is  my  doing  ;  come  and  see  ! " 
But  to  the  Oak  clung  gratefully, 

And  whispered, — "  Be  the  glory  thine  ! 

"  For  had'st  thou  left  me  to  my  will ; 
My  devious  path,  my  careless  ways. 
My  scanty  share  of  dews  and  rays, 

I  should  be  wandering,  worthless  still." 


PART    II. 

Sun  after  sun  brings  vintage-time. 

The  Vine  is  left  all  brown  and  bare, — 

Naked — to  meet  a  chiller  air, 
Empty — to  dream  of  vanished  prime. 

•'  Bereaved  !      bereaved  ! "     she     moans    dis- 
mayed,— 

"  My  very  life-blood  slow  withdrawn  ! 

And  every  day  a  later  dawn, 
And  every  night  a  longer  shade  ! 


A    BETTER  RESURRECTION,      189 

"  What  boots  it  from  that  hapless  past 
To  climb  to  higher  air  and  worth, 
And  gracious  bloom  and  fruit  bring  forth, 

Since  to  this  blank  all  comes  at  last  ? 

"  If  bliss  be  open  door  to  pain. 

If  most  they  lose  who  most  possess, 
No  more  I  ask  for  happiness, — 

Give  back  my  ignorance  again  ! " 

*'  Nay,"  said  the  Oak,  "  not  for  thine  own, 
But  others'  weal,  thou  bearest  fruit ; 
Thy  gain  is  in  thy  deeper  root, 

In  twining  branches  stronger  grown, 

•*  And  richer  store  of  sap  to  thrill 

Into  new  fruitage  year  by  year. 

And  though  the  wintry  days  be  drear, 
Does  not  my  strength  support  thee  still  ?  " 


A  BETTER  RESURRECTION. 

I  HAVE  no  wit,  no  words,  no  tears  ; 

My  heart  within  me  like  a  stone 
Is  numbed  too  much  for  hopes  or  fears  ; 

T  00k  right,  look  left,  I  dwell  alone ; 


190  IMPORTUNITY, 

I  lift  mine  eyes,  but  dimmed  with  grief 

No  everlasting  hills  I  see  ; 

My  life  is  in  the  falling  leaf, — 

O  Jesus,  quicken  me  ! 


My  life  is  like  a  faded  leaf, 

My  harvest  dwindled  to  a  husk  ; 

Truly  my  life  is  void  and  brief. 
And  tedious  in  the  barren  dusk  ; 

My  life  is  like  a  frozen  thing, 
No  bud  or  greenness  I  can  see  ; 

Yet  rise  it  shall, — the  sap  of  spring,- 
O  Jesus,  rise  in  me  ! 


IMPORTUNITY. 

He  standeth  knocking  at  the  door  : — 

"  O  Lord  !  how  long  ?  how  long  ? 
Weeping,  Thy  patience  I  adore, 
And  yet  the  bars  are  strong  : 
Lord,  draw  them  for  me,  for  my  hand  is  weak, 
The  night  is  chill.     Enter  Thou  till  the  streak 
Of    ruddy   morning    flush    the    day's    young 
cheek  !  " 


IMPORTUNITY, 


191 


He  standeth  knocking,  knocking  still  ; 

"Sweet,  pleading  voice,  I  hear." 
The  mist  is  rolling  from  the  hill, 
The  fourth  slow  watch  is  near : 
Through  the  small  lattice  I  behold  His  face, 
In  the  cold  starlight,  full  ot  pitying  grace, 
Yet — how  to  guest  Him,  in  so  mean  a  place  ? 

He  standeth  knocking,  knocking  loud  ! 

Yes  !  for  the  timbers  creak  : 
Eastward  there  low'rs  an  angry  cloud  ; 
"  Sweet  Saviour,  hear  me  speak  ; 
Oh,  bide  not  there  to  feel  the  drenching  rain  ! 
I  bid  Thee  welcome  ;  but  in  grief  and  pain 
Tell  Thee,  my  strength  against  these  bars  is 


He  standeth  knocking,  knocking  oft, 

The  day  of  grace  wears  on. 
The  chiding  Spirit  whispers  soft, 
"  Perchance  he  may  be  gone 
While  thou    still    lingerest."     "Not  the  bars 

alone 
Keep   Thee    out,  Lord  :    against   the   door   is 

thrown 
Sand-bags   of  Care   and    hoarded    gains   and 
stone." 


192 


THE  FEAST. 


He  standeth  knocking,  knocking  faint ; 

''Blest  Saviour,  leave  me  not ; 
But  let  me  tell  Thee  my  complaint, 
The  misery  of  my  lot, 
And   let  me  sweep  the  floor  Thy  feet   must 

press, 
Deck  myself  royally  for  Thy  caress. 
Make  myself  worthy,  ere  Thou  stoop  to  bless  ! '' 

He  standeth  knocking,  knocking  still  ; 

"Lord,  help  me  in  my  doubt, 
Must  I  put  forth  this  feeble  will 
To  draw  Thee  from  without  ? 
Then  help  my  weakness."      Hear  each  stern 

bar  give, 
The  door  flies   backward  :    He  but  whispers 

"Live!" 
While  on  His  patient  breast  I,  weeping,  plead 
"  Forgive  !  " 


THE  FEAST. 

"  The  sajue  spiritual  ineat^  the  same  spiritual  drinlcy 

Thou  hast  for  us  a  Table  spread. 

And  we  are  fed 
With  costlier  than  angel's  bread, — 


HIS  SHARE   AND  MINE.  193 

Bread  from  that  Corn  of  Wheat  which  once 

did  die 
To  yield  for  man  eternally  supply, — 

Wine 
Pressed  from  the  clusters  of  the  Living  Vine; — 
This  Thou  preparest  for  these  guests  of  Thine, 

And  whom  dost  Thou  invite, 

Saying,  "  Take,  eat,  and  drink  ?  " 
Who  may  be  counted  worthy  in  Thy  sight. 

Nor  from  Thy  bidding  shrink, — 

The  humble  or  the  great  ? 

"  All  who  do  feel  their  sinfulness  and  woe, 

Be  they  of  high  or  mean  estate, 

Are  welcome,  I  stoop  low. 
Stay! 
Wilt  thou  not  also  be  My  guest  to-day  ?" 


HIS  SHARE  AND  MINE. 

He  went  from  me  so  softly  and  so  soon  ! — 
His  sweet  hands  rest  at  morning  and  at  noon. 

The  only  task  God  gave  them  was  to  hold 
A  few  fair  rosebuds — and  be  white  and  cold. 

His  share  of  flowers  he  took  with  him  away ; 
No  more  will  blossom  here  so  fair  as  they. 
13 


194  t^^S  SHARE  AND  MINE, 

His  share  of  thorns  he  left, — and  if  they  tear 
My  hands  instead  of  his,  I  do  not  care. 

His  sweet  eyes  were  so  clear  and  lovely  but 
To  look  into  the  world's  wild  light — and  shut. 

Down    in  the  dust  they  have  their  share  of 

sleep  ; 
Their  share  of  tears  is  left  for  me  to  weep. 

His  sweet  mouth  had  its  share  of  kisses, — oh  ! 
What  love,  what  anguish  will  he  ever  know  ? 

Its  share  of  thirst  and  murmuring  and  moan 
And  cries  unsatisfied,  shall  be  mine  own. 

He  had  his  share  of  summer.     Birds  and  dew 
Were  here  with  him, — with  him  they  vanished, 
too. 

His  share  of  dying  leaves,  and  rains,  and  frost, 
I  take,  with  every  dreary  thing  he  lost. 

The  phantom  of  the  cloud  he  did  not  see 
For  evermore  shall  overshadow  me. 

He,  in  return,  with  small,  still,  snowy  feet, 
Touched  the  Dim  Path,  and  made  its  twilight 
sweet. 


THE  ELIXIR.  195 


THE  ELIXIR. 

Teach  me,  my  God  and  King, 

In  all  things  Thee  to  see  ; 
And  what  I  do  in  anything. 

To  do  it  unto  Thee  ; 

Not  rudely,  as  a  beast. 

To  run  into  an  action  ; 
But  still  to  make  Thee  pre-possest, 

And  give  it  thus  perfection. 

A  man  that  looks  on  glass, 

On  it  may  stay  his  eye  ; 
Or,  if  he  pleaseth,  through  it  pass, 

And  then  the  heaven  espy. 

All  may  of  Thee  partake  ; 

Nothing  can  be  so  mean, 
Which,  with  this  tincture, — For  Thy  sake,- 

Will  not  grow  bright  and  clean. 

A  servant,  with  this  clause. 

Makes  drudgery  divine  ; 
Who  sweeps  a  room,  as  for  Thy  laws, 

Makes  that,  and  the  action,  fine. 


196 


THE   PHARISAIC  WATCH, 


This -is  the  famous  stone 

That  turneth  all  to  gold  ; 
For  that  which  God  doth  touch  and  own, 

Cannot  for  less  be  told. 


INFLUENCE. 

This  learned  I  from  the  shadow  of  a  tree, 
That  to  and  fro  did  sway  upon  a  wall, — 
Our  shadow-selves,  our  influence,  may  fall 

Where  we  can  never  be. 


THE  PHARISAIC  WATCH. 

*'  Why  call  ye  me  Lord,  Lord,  and  do  not  the  things  which 
Isay  ?" 

"  I  WAKE,  O  Lord,  and  pray, 
For  night  is  long  and  drear." 
*'  The  prayer  of  night  oft  needs  the  li<^ht^ 
To  make  its  meaning  clear y 

*'  I  wake,  O  Lord,  and  pray, 
I  tell  my  sins  all  o'er." 
*^  DicTst  number  first  the  forest  leaves^ 
The  sands  along  the  shore  ?  " 


THE  PHARISAIC  WATCH,  197 

"  I  wake,  O  LORD,  and  pray, 
My  good  deeds,  too,  I  count." 
^'•Nay^  reckon  Jirst  the  pangs  I  felt 
For  thee,  on  Calvary's  mount,'''* 


"  I  wake,  O  Lord,  and  pray, 
Thy  Holy  Church  defend." 
**  For  thee  I  freely  gave  my  life. 
Do  thou  my  vineyard  tend.'* 

"  I  wake,  O  Lord,  and  pray, 
Help  Thou  the  suffering  poor." 
"  Nay^  did  I  leave  them  not  with  thee  f 
They  lie  before  thy  door" 

*'  I  wake,  O  Lord,  and  pray, 
My  life  to  Thee  I  trust." 
•'  Afy  rain  and  sunshine  bless  alike 
The  sinful  and  the  jus  tT 

*'  I  wake,  O  Lord,  and  pray. 
Though  sore  by  sleep  opprest." 
"  Till  Conscience  wakes,  thy  watch  is  vain. 
Sleep  on,  and  take  thy  rest" 


198       '*  UN  TIM  EL  Y  GA  THE  RED. " 
"  UNTIMELY  GATHERED." 

*'  A  flower^  though  offered  in  the  bud^ 
Is  no  mean  sacrifice. ^"^ 

O  FAINTEST  Ripple,  breaking  on  the  dim 

And  utmost  shore  of  life  ! — 
And  wert  thou  all  unconscious  of  the  din 

Of  outward  storm  and  strife  ? 
O  little  Heart,  now  lying  still  and  cold, 

That  beat  erewhile  with  mine,  — 
O  tiny  Hands,  that  lost  your  feeble  hold 

On  life,  and  made  no  sign  ! 
O  little  Heart,  lying  so  cold  and  still, — 

And  wilt  thou  never  know 
How  other  hearts  thy  wavering  pulses  thrilled 

With  their  soft  ebb  and  flow  ? 
How  echoes  from  the  future,  sweet  and  far, 

With  every  stroke  kept  time  ; 
And  how  the  tender  light  of  Hope's  fair  star 

Died  one  with  their  low  chime  ? 
O  little  Soul,  while  Love  and  Mystery 

Built  thee  a  fabric  bright, 
Wert  thou  not  waiting  for  it  patiently 

Beside  the  gates  of  light  ? 
And  did'st  thou,  turning  back,  grieve  sadly  o'er 

Thy  lost  and  ruined  shrine  ? — 
And  now,  oh,  wilt  thou  not  for  evermore 

Be  lost  for  me  and  mine  ? 


UNTIMELY   gathered: 


199 


Or  will  the  little  form  unfinished  here 

Be  perfected  for  thee, 
And  still  retain  in  its  bright  home  afar 

Dim  memories  of  me  ? 
Why  are  the  yearnings  of  a  mother's  heart 

So  deathless  and  so  strong  ? 
Why  must  the  life  of  which  thou  wast  a  part 

Cherish  the  dream  so  long, 
If  it  be  nought  beside  ?     It  cannot  be  : 

Thus  much  we  know, — 
Although  we  cannot  pierce  God's  mystery, 

He  sends  not  fruitless  woe. 
Those  little  sinless  feet,  undoomed  to  try 

This  rugged  world  of  ours, 
Those  tender,  folded  hands,  unpierced  by 

Its  thorny  flowers, 
May  lead  our  thoughts  above,  and  point  the 
way  ; 
A  bliss  half-given 
May  be  a  link — lest  they  should  turn  astray— 

Between  our  hearts  and  heaven. 
Perhaps  we  need  this  bitter  drop  within 

Life's  too  alluring  cup  ; 
This  our  white  lamb,  a  sacrifice  for  sin. 

Our  hearts  must  offer  up. 
Who  knows  but  those  dumb  lips  and  sealed 
eyes, 
With  eloquence  unknown 


200  SUSPIRIA. 

On  earth,  may  plead  for  us  in  Paradise, 

Beside  the  Golden  Throne  ? 
This    folded    bud,    which,   cherished   on    our 
breast. 
Might  gather  blight  or  stain, 
In  Heaven  may  bloom  more  brightly  than  the 
rest. 
And  be  our  own  again. 
Howe'er  it  be,  our  hearts  may  not  rebel, 

E'en  though  we  grieve. 
We   know   but   this, — '•  He    doeth    all   things 
well." 
We  trust  and  we  believe. 


SUSPIRIA. 

Take  them,  O  Death  !  and  bear  away 
Whatever  thou  canst  call  thine  own  ! 

Thine  image,  stamped  upon  this  clay, 
Doth  give  thee  that, — but  that  alone  ! 

Take  them,  O  Death,  and  let  them  lie 
Folded  upon  thy  narrow  shelves, 

As  garments  by  the  soul  laid  by, 
And  precious  only  to  ourselves  ! 


DARK  AND  LIGHT,  201 

Take  them,  O  great  Eternity  ! 

Our  little  life  is  but  a  gust 
That  bends  the  branches  of  thy  tree, 

And  trails  its  blossoms  in  the  dust  1 


DARK  AND  LIGHT. 

Where  the  cliff  o'erlooks  the  sea, 

I  am  wondering  drearily 

Why  my  life  so  dark  should  be  ; 

While  the  seas  and  sands  and  skies. 
Steeped  in  gorgeous  sunset  dyes, 
With  such  brightness  mock  my  eyes. 

And  the  sea-gull  shows  so  white, 
Far  below  me  skimming  light 
O'er  the  crested  billows  bright, — 

Shows  so  white,  my  eyes  are  won 

Listlessly  to  follow  on, 

Till, — his  seaward  errand  done, — 

Swift  he  takes  his  upward  flight, 
Soon  to  grow  as  black  as  night 
'Twixt  me  and  the  higher  light. 


202  WHA  T? 

Learn,  my  soul,  the  lesson  due ; 
Dark  and  light  have  much  to  do 
With  the  gazer's  point  of  view. 

If  between  thy  God  and  thee 
Earthly  cares  float  wilderingly, 
Dark  as  night  they  well  may  be. 

Who  would  see  their  wings  of  white, 
Needs  must  look  from  Faith's  calm  height 
Downward  with  undazzled  sight. 


WHAT  ? 

Lord,  if  Thy  wounds  have  filled  the  world 
with  peace, 

What  shall  Thy  joy  do,  when  all  sin  shall 
cease, 

And  the  new  earth  shall  yield  her  full  in- 
crease I 


COMMISSIONED.  2O3 


COMMISSIONED. 

**  Do  their  errands  :  enter  zitto  the  sacrifice  with  them  ; 
be  a  link  yourself  in  the  divine  chain  ^  and /eel  the  joy  and 
life  of  it.'' 

What  can  I  do  for  thee,  beloved, 
Whose  feet  so  little  while  ago 
Trod  the  same  wayside  dust  with  mine, 

And  now  up  paths  I  do  not  know 
Speed,  without  sound  or  sign  ? 

What  can  I  do  ?  The  perfect  life 
All  fresh  and  fair  and  beautiful 
Has  opened  its  wide  arms  to  thee  ; 

Thy  cup  is  over-brimmed  and  full  ; 
Nothing  remains  for  me. 

I  used  to  do  so  many  things 

Love  thee  and  chide  thee  and  caress, 
Brush  little  straws  from  off  thy  way, 

Tempering  with  my  poor  tenderness 
The  heat  of  thy  short  day. 

Not  much,  but  very  sweet  to  give  ; 
And  it  is  grief  of  griefs  to  bear. 
That  all  these  ministries  are  o'er. 

And  thou,  so  happy,  love,  elsewhere. 
Dost  need  me  never  more. 


204  COMMISSIONED. 

And  I  can  do  for  thee  but  th's  : 
(Working  on  blindly,  knowing  not 
If  I  may  give  thee  pleasure  so  ;) 

Out  of  my  own  dull,  shadowed  lot 
I  can  arise,  and  go 

To  sadder  lives  and  darker  homes, 
A  messenger,  dear  heart,  from  thee   " 
Who  wast  on  earth  a  comforter  ; 

And  say  to  those  who  welcome  me, 
I  am  sent  forth  by  her  : 

Feeling  the  while  how  good  it  is 
To  do  thy  errands  thus,  and  think 
It  may  be,  in  the  blue,  far  space. 

Thou  watchest  from  the  heaven's  brink, 
A  smile  upon  thy  face. 

And  when  the  day's  work  ends  with  day, 
And  star-eyed  evening,  stealing  in. 
Waves  her  cool  hand  to  flying  noon, 

And  restless,  surging  thoughts  begin, 
Like  sad  bells  out  of  tune, 

I'll  pray,  "  Dear  Lord,  to  whose  great  love 
Nor  bound  nor  limit-line  is  set. 
Give  to  my  darling,  I  implore, 

Some  new,  sweet  joy,  not  tasted  yet, 
For  I  can  give  no  more." 


THE   SHADED  LIGHT.  205 

And,  with  the  words  my  thoughts  shall  climb 
With  following  feet  the  heavenly  stair 
Up  which  thy  steps  so  lately  sped, 

And  seeing  thee  so  happy  there, 
Come  back  half  comforted. 


THE  SHADED  LIGHT. 

**  /  have  yet  many  things  to  say  unto  you^  but  ye  cannot 
bear  them  ^low." 

As  one  who  entereth  by  night  a  room 

Where  sufferers  lie, 
Shadeth  his  lamp  to  suit  the  languid  eye  ; 
So  doth  the  Christ  draw  nigh 
Unto  our  world  of  gloom. 
The  light  of  life  He  beareth,  and  doth  stand 
Shading  it  tenderly  with  pierced  hand, 
Lest  the  full  glare 
Should  cause  us  not  to  see,  but  stare. 
Yet  through  the  nail-prints  some  sweet  rays 
divine 
W^ill  gently  shine  ; — 
Dawn  which  doth  for  the  day  prepare. 


2o6       "/  SHALL  BE   satisfied:' 


"  I  SHALL  BE  SATISFIED." 

Not  here  !  not  here  !  not  where  the  sparkling 
waters 
Fade  into  mocking  sands  as  we  draw  near ; 
Where    in   the   wilderness  each   tootstep  fal- 
ters ; — 
I  shall  be  satisfied — but  oh,  not  here  ! 


Not  here — where  every  dream  of  bliss  deceives 
us, 
Where  the  worn  spirit  never  gains  its  goal ; 
Where,  haunted    ever    by   the    thought    that 
grieves  us, 
Across  us  floods  of  bitter  memory  roll. 


There  is  a  Land  where  every  pulse  is  thrilling 
With   rapture    earth's   sojourners    may  not 
know ; 
Where  Heaven's  repose  the   weary  heart  is 
stilling. 
And    peacefully   life's    time-toss'd   currents 
flow. 


*/  SHALL   BE   SATISFLEDr 


207 


Far  out  of  sight,  while  yet  the  flesh  infolds  us, 
Lies  the  fair  country  where  our  hearts  abide; 

And  of  its  bliss  is  naught  more  wondrous  told 
us 
Than  the  few  words,  "  I  shall  be  satisfied  ! " 

Satisfied  !  satisfied  !  the  spirit's  yearning 
For    sweet    companionship    with     kindred 
minds, — 

The  silent  love  that  here  meets  no  returning, 
The  inspiration  which  no  language  finds? 

Shall  they  be  satisfied  ? — the  soul's  vague 
longings, 

The  aching  void  which  nothing  earthly  fills  ? 
Oh,  what  desires  upon  my  soul  are  thronging. 

As  I  look  upward  to  the  heavenly  hills  ! 

Thither  my  weak  and  weary  feet  are  tending — 
Saviour  and  Lord,  with  Thy  frail  child  abide; 

Guide  me  towards  home,  where,  all  my  wan- 
derings ending, 
I  then  shall  see  Thee^  and  "  be  satisfied !  ** 


2o8  /S  IT  SO? 


IS  IT  SO  ? 

Is  it  so,  O  Christ  in  Heaven,  that  the  highest 

suffer  most  ? — 
That  the  strongest  wander  farthest  and  most 

hopelessly  are  lost. 
That  the  mark  of  rank  in  nature  is  capacity 

for  pain, 
And   the    anguish    of   the    singer   makes    the 

sweetness  of  the  strain  ? 

Is  it  so,  O  Christ  in  Heaven,  that  whichever 

way  we  go. 
Walls  of  darkness  must  surround   us,  things 

we  would,  but  cannot,  know, 
That  the  Infinite  must  bound  us  as  a  temple 

veil  unrent, 
While  the  Finite   ever  wearies,  so  that  none 

attain  content  ? 

Is  it  so,  O  Christ  in  Heaven,  that  the  fullness 
yet  to  come 

Is  so  glorious  and  so  perfect  that  to  know 
would  strike  us  dumb, 

That  if  only  for  a  moment  we  could  pierce  be- 
yond the  sky, 

With  these  poor  dim  eyes  of  mortals,  we  should 
just  see  God  and  die  ? 


GRA  VES. 


SORROW. 


209 


Should  Sorrow  lay  her  hand  upon  thy  shoul- 
der, 
And  walk  with  thee  in  silence  on  life's  way, 
While  Joy,  thy  bright  companion  once,  grown 
colder. 
Becomes  to  thee  more  distant  day  by  day  ; 
Shrink  not  from  the  companionship  of  Sorrow, 

She  is  the  messenger  of  God  to  thee  ; 
And  thou  wilt  thank  Him  in   His  great  To- 
morrow,— 
For  what  thou  know'st  not  now,  thou  then 
shalt  see  ; — 
She  is  God's  Angel,  clad  in  weeds  of  night, 
With  whom   "  we  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by 
sight." 


GRAVES. 

The  new-made  grave  lies  bare  and  brown 
Beneath  the  spring's  capricious  sky, 

The  chilly  raindrops  on  it  beat, 
The  breezes  pass  it  coldly  by  ; 
14 


210  GRAVES. 

But  day  by  day  Time's  fingers  work 

Their  noiseless  miracles  of  grace  ; 
Soft  grasses  wrap  it  greenly  round  ; 

The  daisy  lifts  its  starry  face ; 
The  wild  rose  sends  a  honeyed  breath 

To  woo  the  bee  from  neighboring  wold  ; 
The  violet  holds  its  dainty  cup 

To  catch  the  morning's  earliest  gold  ; 
The  zephyrs  round  it  linger  long 

To  stir  the  grass  and  rob  the  flowers  ; — 
It  seems  a  child  of  Nature's  own, 

Conceived  upon  her  happiest  hours. 

So  in  our  hearts  the  new-made  graves 

Rise,  desolating  all  the  scene. 
Till  Time's  light  touches  wreathe  them  round 

With  clinging  memories  evergreen, 
And  radiant  hopes  that  blossom  out 

In  Grief's  soft  fall  of  tender  dew, 
Till  life  is  rich  with  growing  wealth 

Of  peaceful  trust  and  insight  new. 
We  see  with  eyes  that  shine  through  tears 

God's  wondrous  plan  in  light  unfold  ; — 
We  now  would  nevermore  exchange 

Those     flower -grown    mounds    of    fertile 
mould 


COUPLETS  OF  COMFORT.        211 

For  any  face  whose  smile  grew  soft 

Against  our  own  in  life's  young  prime  ; — 

In  Paradise  hearts  grow  not  cold, — 

Our  loved  are  There — we  wait  God's  time  ! 


COUPLETS  OF  COMFORT. 


Despair  not  in  the  vale  of  woe. 
Where  many  joys  from  suffering  flow. 


Oft  breathes  Simoom,  and  close  behind 
A  breath  of  God  doth  softly  blow. 

III. 

Clouds  threaten,  but  a  ray  of  light, 
And  not  of  lightning,  falls  below. 

IV. 

Thy  branches  are  not  bare — and  yet 
What  storms  have  shook  them  to  and  fro  ! 

V. 

To  thee  has  time  brought  many  joys. 
If  many  it  has  bid  to  go  ; 


212        COUPLETS  OF  COMFORT. 

VI. 

And  seasoned  has  with  bitterness 
Thy  cup,  that  flat  it  should  not  grow. 

VII. 

Trust  in  that  veiled  hand,  which  leads 
None  by  the  path  that  he  would  go  ; 

VIII. 

And  always  be  for  change  prepared, 
For  the  world's  law  is  ebb  and  flow. 

IX. 

Stand  fast  in  suffering,  until  He 
Who  called  it,  shall  dismiss  also ; 

X. 

And  from  the  Lord  all  good  expect, 
Who  many  mercies  strews  below  ; 

XI. 

Who  in  life's  narrow  garden-strip 
Has  bid  delights  unnumbered  blow. 


'LIKE  AS  A   FATHERr  213 


"LIKE  AS  A  FATHER.' 

Like  as  a  father,  when  his  children  weary 
In  the  dim  path  he  knows  so  straight  and 
plain, 
Pities    their    sorrows,    knows    how    sad    and 
dreary 
Life   seems   to   them — yet    leads    them   on 
again  ; — 

E'en  so  our  Lord,  in  this  our  time  of  sorrow, 
When  our  hearts  faint  and  all  earth's  wells 
seem  dried, 
Pities  His  children,  and  doth  let  us  borrow 
Help  from   that    Heaven  where  our  hearts 
abide. 

He  knows  our  frames  ;  He  knows  we  are  but 
groping. 

As  children  in  the  darkness,  for  His  hand  ; 
He  leads  us  on, — not  seeing,  only  hoping, — 

And  waiting  patiently  for  His  command. 


214  ^-^-^    ^^^   VOICES. 


LIFE  THROUGH  DEATH. 

A  DEWDROP  falling  on  the  wild  sea  wave, 
Exclaimed  in  fear, — "  I  perish  in  this  grave  ;" 
But  in  a  shell  received,  that  drop  of  dew 
Unto  a  pearl  of  marvelous  beauty  grew ; 
And,  happy  now,  the  grace  did  magnify 
Which   thrust   it  forth — as   it   had   feared,  to 

die  ; — 
Until  again,  "I  perish  quite,"  it  said. 
Torn  by  rude  diver  from  its  ocean  bed. 
O  unbelieving  ! — so  it  came  to  gleam 
Chief  jewel  in  a  monarch's  diadem. 


THE  TWO  VOICES. 

*'  All  things  are  reconciled 
In  Thee,  O  Lord  !  all  fierce  extremes  that  beat 
Along  Life's  shore, 
Have  crept  to  kiss  Thy  feet !  " 

*  Over  the  world  the  snow  flakes  are  lying, 
Cold  as  the  lips  that  have  done  with  sighing, 

Freezing  the  breath  of  the  hours  ; 
Hiding  the  sod  from  the  warm  sun-glances, 
Shutting  the  mold  from  the  blithe  rain-dances, 

Muffling  the  trees  and  the  bowers  !  * 


THE    TWO   VOICES,  215 

'  Yet  'neaih  the    coldness  some    warmth   is 
abiding. 

Under  the  frost-belt  the  grain-roots  are  hid- 
ing. 
Under  the  snow^  the  ftowersj^ 

'  Over  the  earth  glad  verdure  is  springing, 
Birds  sweetest  matins  and  vespers  are  singing, 

Rivers  in  harmony  flow  ; 
Out  in  the  fields  the  grain-gold  is  gleaming, 
Over  the  meadows  the  sun-gold  is  streaming, 

Flowers  unfold  in  the  glow  !  * 

*  Vet  of  the  summer  the  life  is  abating, 
Back   of   the    sujishine    the    storm-cloud  is 
waiting, 
Back  of  the  flowers,  the  snow.' 

'  Dark,  in  my  life,  the  shadows  are  growing, 
Into  its  gardens  the  thick  cares  are  snowing, 

Wide  opens  sorrow's  abyss  ; 
Smiling  is  changed  into  bitterest  weeping, 
Love  o'er  its  graves  mournful  vigil  is  keeping. 

Never  was  darkness  like  this  ! 

'  Yet  i7t  the  shadow  hope's  soft  wing  is  glow- 

ing, 
Out  of  the  night-time  the  morning  is  grow- 

Out  of  life's  sorrow,  its  bliss.'' 


2i6  THE    TWO   VOICES, 

'  Down  in  my  heart  sweet  blossoms  are  spring- 
ing, 
Ripplings  of  music  and  snatches  of  singing 

Meet  in  its  cheery  refrain  ; 
Freshest  of  garlands  Hope's  fingers  are  weav- 
ing. 
Love  to  her  promises  listens  believing, 
Life  is  all  sunshine  again  ! ' 

'  Ve^  in  the  carol  an  undertone  waileth. 
After  the  siuilight  the  black  shadow  traileth, 
After  life  s  gladness,  its  pain.' 

'  Teach  me,  O  Father  !    this  truth  to  discover, 
That  in  the  snow-flakes  which  over  us  hover. 

Skies  all  agloom  or  aflame, 
Grief  that  depresses,  or  gladness  that  raises, 
I  of  Thy  love  read  the  manifold  phrases, 

Love  that  is  ever  the  same  ! ' 

*  Trust  in  that  love  through  the  joy  and  the 

sorrow, 
Changeless  is  He  both  to-day  and  to-morrow, 
Love  is  forever  His  name.'* 


THE  STRANDED    SHIP.  217 


THE   STRANDED   SHIP. 

2  Chron.  xxxvi.  15,  16. 

I  SAW  a  vessel  which  the  waves  did  spare 
Lie  sadly  stranded  on   a  sandy  beach, 
Beyond  the  tide's  kind   reach  ; 
Within  its  murmur  of  lamenting-  speech 

Long-  lay  she  there  ; 

Until  at  length 
A  mighty  sea  arose  in  all  its  strength, 

And  launched  her  lovingly. 

And  thus,  alas!  our  race 
La^  stranded  on  the  beach  of  human  sin 

And  misery, 
Beyond  all  help,  until  God's  glorious  grace- 

A  mighty  tide. 

All  crimson  dyed — 

Swept  grandly  in 

And  set  us  free. 


2i8  ALPHA    A.VD    OMEGA. 

THE  COMMON  OFFERING. 

It  is  not  the  deed  that  we  do, 

Though  the  deed  be  never  so  fair, 

But  the  love  that   the  dear  Lord  looketh  for, 
Hidden  with  holy  care 
In  the  heart  of  the  deed  so  fair. 

The  love  is  the  priceless  thing. 

The  treasure  our  treasure  must  hold. 
Or  ever  the  Lord  will  take  the  gift, 
Or  tell  the  worth  of  the  gold 
(By  the  love  that  cannot  be  told). 

Behold  us,  the  rich  and  the  poor, 

Dear  Lord,  in  Thy  service  drawn  near  ; 
One  consecrateth  a  precious  coin, 
One  droppeth  only  a  tear, — 
Look,  Master,  the  love  is  here. 


ALPHA  AND  OMEGA. 

Alpha  and  Omega : 

Be  Thou  my  First  and  Last, — 
The  Source  whence  I  descend, 
The  Joy  to  which  I  tend. 

When  earth  is  past. 


ALPHA    AND   OMEGA. 

Open  my  waking  eyes, 

And  fill  them  with  Thy  light ; 

For  Thee  each  plan  begun, 

In  Thee  each  duty  done. 
Close  them  at  night. 

Enfold  me  when   asleep  ; 

Let  soft  dews  from  above 
Refresh  the  long  day's  toil. 
Wash  off  the  worldly  soil. 

And  strengthen  love. 

Men  speak  of  Four  Last  Things,— 
Death,  and  the  Judgment  hall, 

Hell,  and  the  Heaven  so  fair  ; 

But  Thou,  O  Lord,  art  there, 
Beyond  them  all. 

There  is  no  "  last"  with  Thee, 

But  only  our  last  sins, 

Last  sorrows,  and  last  tears. 
Last  sicknesses,  last  fears, — 

Then  Joy  begins; 

Joy  without  bound  or  end, — 
Concentric  circles  bright. 
Spreading  from  round  Thy  throne, 
Flowing  from  Thee  alone, 

O  Love  !    O  Light ! 


219 


220  ELIM. 

Lay  Thy  right  hand  of  power 
In  blessing  on  my  brow  ; 

Heaven's  keys  are  in  Thy  Hand, 

Its  portals  open  stand  ; 
I  fear  not  now. 

Lead  Thou  me  gently  in, 

Thou  who  through  death  hast  passed 

Then  bring  me  to  Thy  throne, 

For  Thee  I  seek  alone, 
My  First  and  Last. 


ELIM. 

When  founts  of  Marah  on  our  way 

Gush  suddenly  and  strong, 

How  quick  is  Discontent  to  say, 

"  O  Lord,  how  long  ?" 

But  when  fair  Elims  bless  our  eyes 
With  springing  wells  and  palms, 
Is  Gratitude  as  swift  to  rise. 
And  sing  glad  psalms  ? 


THE  HOLY  NAME.  221 


THE  RACE. 

Lord,  Thou  dost  know 
How  weak  my  footsteps  are,  how  slow 

To  run  the  race 

Of  Thy  grace, — 
Bound  with  the  chain  of  dark,  besetting  sin, 

While  others  move  apace; 
Yet  I,  through  Thee,  the  victory  shall  win. 
Although  I  be  the  last  to  enter  in. 

Thou  still  wilt  wait. 
And  for  my  little  strength  wilt  open  keep  Thy 
gate. 


THE   HOLY    NAME. 

Ringing  softly  in  mine  ear, 
Like  a  distant  vesper  bell. 

With  a  silver  sound  and  clear, 
Is  the  name  I  love  so  well  ! 

All  the  music  upon  earth. 
Every  tone  of  rarest  fame, 

Hath  its  pure,  harmonious  birth 
From  the  music  of  that  name. 


2  22  THE  HOLY  NAME, 

Notes  of  life's  full  octave  ring 
In  that  chord — a  mystic  seven  ; 

And  from  that  one  key-note  spring 
All  the  harmonies  of  heaven. 

When  it  soundeth  through  the  soul, 
Ah,  how  sweet,  how  clear  and  low  ! 

Into  one  melodious  whole 

All  earth's  jarring  discords  flow  ; 

Doubt  and  anguish  melt  away, 
And  the  spirit  drifts  along. 

Toward  the  dawning  of  the  day, 
On  a  silver  tide  of  song. 

Name  of  blessing— name  of  strength  ! 

Name  of  life — our  joy  and  boast ! 
Oh,  to  sing  Thy  praise  at  length 

'Mid  Thine  own  triumphant  host ! 

Name  of  Jesus — name  of  love  ! 

Name  at  which  I  bend  the  knee  ! 
Name  all  other  names  above — 

Oh,  to  love  Thee  boundlessly  ! 

Lord  my  God  !     On  that  dread  day 
When  Thy  books  unclosed  shall  be. 

By  Thine  own  dear  name,  I  pray, 
May  tny  name  be  known  to  Thee  ! 


ADORATION.  223 

Grant  that  while  I  yet  have  time, 
Lest  my  soul  be  brought  to  shame, 

All  my  steps  may  ever  chime 
With  the  music  of  Thy  name  ! 


ADORATION. 

I  LOVE  my  God,  but  with  no  love  of  mine, 
For  I  have  none  to  give  ; 

I  love  Thee,  Lord,  but  all  the  love  is  Thine, 
For  by  Thy  life  I  live. 

I  am  as  nothing,  and  rejoice  to  be 

Emptied,  and  lost,  and  swallowed  up  in  Thee. 

Thou,  Lord,  alone,  art  all  Thy  children  need, 

And  there  is  none  beside  ; 
From   Thee  the   streams  of  blessedness  pro- 
ceed, 

In  Thee  the  blest  abide, — 
Fountain  of  life,  and  all-abounding  grace, 
Our  source,  our  center,  and   our    dwelling- 
place. 


2  21         A    TWILIGHT   THOUGHT 


A   TWILIGHT   THOUGHT. 

The  day  is  dead.     The  stealing  night 

With  soft,  dusk  foldings  blinds  mine  eyes  ; 
Dear  Christ,  within  my  heart  arise, 

And  cheer  its  dark  with  heavenly  light  ! 

The  daylight  hours  I  slow  retrace 

To  find  some  good  thing  said  or  done. 
Some  battle-ground  from  evil  won, 

Where  I  may  meet  Thee  face  to  face, — 

And  hear  Thy  sweet,  commending  word, — 
"  Well  done,  thou  servant  good  and  true  ! ' 
But  ah  !    mine  eyes  are  wet  with  dew 

Of  disappointed  tears,  O  Lord  ! 

More  battles  I  have  lost  than  won. 

More  ill  than  good  unthinking  wrought  ; 
Naked  I  stand  before  my  diought. 

And  scourge  myself,  and  cry,  "  Undone  !" 

Undone,  indeed,  if  Thou  dost  seek 
To  find  in  me  some  smallest  spot 
Where  good  doth  reign,  and  sin  is  not  ! 

My  strongest  powers  are  proved  so  weak — 


A    TWILIGHT    THOUGHT.  225 

My  highest  aims  do  fall  so  low  ! 
And  all  I  think,  or  do,  or  say, 
Is  soiled  by  touch  of  human  clay. 

Or  dimmed  with  mist  of  human  woe. 

So,  Lord,  if  Thou  should'st  be  extreme 
To  mark  what  is  amiss  in  me, 
The  pearly  gates  I  ne'er  shall  see, 

Nor  tread  upon  the  sunny  gleam 

Of  golden  streets,  nor  stand  beside 
The  sweet  Life-river's  crystal  flow, 
Nor  e'er  the  song  of  ransom  know, 

Nor  look  on  Thee — the  Crucified  ! 

Lo  !   at  Thy  cross  I  lay  me  down. 

And  reckon  o'er  Thy  groans  and  cries. 
Thy  drops  of  blood,  Thy  agonies. 

The  thorns  that  wove  Thy  mocking   crown, — 

And  list  Thy  cry  of  deep  despair  ; — 
And  though  my  heart  is  like  to  break 
That  thou  should'st  suffer  so,  I  take 

In  every  pang  some  comfort  rare. 

For  surely,  surely,  not  in  vain 

Did'st  Thou  such  anguish  undergo, — 
Such  dreary  depth  of  soundless  woe  ! 

Such  dread,  surpassing  weight  of  pain  ! 
15 


2  26  THE    SEA-BIRD. 

No  human  sin  so  black  or  deep, 

But  Thou  clid'st  full  atonement  make  ; 
No  soul  can  so  with  terror  quake 

But  at  Thy  cross  its  fears  may  sleep. 

So  at  its  foot  I  lay  me  low, 

And  tell  Thy  suff 'rings  o'er  and  o'er, 
And  feel  hope  quicken  more  and  more,- 

And  till  Thou  bless  me,  will  not  go  ! 


THE   SEA-BIRD. 

In  a  plowed  field  I  saw  a  sea-bird  rest, 

Driven  by  the  tempest,  inward  from  the  sea  ; 

The    gleaming    plumage   of    its    snow-white 
breast — 

Fit  only  for  the  billow's  kindred  crest — 

All  sullied  by  the  mold  of  the  damp  earth. 
Alas  !  that  we, 

God's  higher  creatures,  of  a  nobler  birth, 
Should,  sea-bird  like,  in  cowardice  forsake 

The  mighty  ocean  of  God's  higher  will, 

When  storms  of  persecution  rise  and  break, 

And  when  the  w^aters  are  no  longer  still, 

For  the  poor  shelter  of  an  inland  hill, — 
Shrinking  from  toil, 

Contented  with  the  rest  of  this  world's  soil  ! 


GOD'S  ANVIL.  227 


GOD'S  ANVIL. 


Pain's  furnace-heat  within  me  quivers, 
God's  breath  upon  the  flame  doth  blow ; 

And  all  my  heart  in  anguish  shivers, 
And  trembles  at  the  fiery  glow  : 

And  yet  I  whisper,  "  As  God  will  ! " 

And  in  His  hottest  fire  hold  still. 

He  comes,  and  lays  my  heart,  all  heated, 

On  the  hard  anvil,  minded  so 
Into  His  own  fair  shape  to  beat  it 

With  His  great  hammer,  blow  on  blow  ! 
And  yet  I  whisper,  "  As  God  will  !  " 
And  at  His  heaviest  blows  hold  still. 

He  takes  my  softened  heart  and  beats  it ; 

The  sparks  fly  off"  at  every  blow  ; 
He  turns  it  o'er  and  o'er,  and  heats  it, 

And  lets  it  cool,  and  makes  it  glow. 
And  yet  I  whisper,  "  As  God  will ! " 
And  in  His  mighty  hand  hold  still. 

Why  should  I  murmur  ?  for  the  sorrow 
Thus  only  longer-lived  would  be  ; 

Its  end  may  come,  and  will,  to-morrow% 
When  God  has  done  His  work  in  me. 

So  I  say,  trusting,  "  As  God  will  ! " 

And  trusting  to  the  end,  hold  still. 


2  28  THE  MER  BE   GLACE. 

He  kindles  for  my  profit  purely 
Affliction's  glowing,  fiery  brand  ; 

And  all  His  heaviest  blows  are  surely 
Inflicted  by  a  Master- hand. 

So  I  say,  praying,  **  As  God  wnll  !  " 

And  hope  in  Him,  and  suffer  still ! 


THE  MER  DE  GLACE. 

Isaiah,  li.  lo,  ii. 

Lord,  since  Thy  Christ  hath  walked  death's 
sea, 

It  lieth  calmed, 
Its  tossing  waves  in  solid  ice  embalmed, — 
A  footing  firm,  if  cold,  o'er  which  we  pass : 

And  though  this  "  Mer  de  Glace  ** 
Hideth  full  many  a  deep  and  dark  crevasse. 
Yet  o'er  its  desolation,  calm  and  white. 
The  moon  of  faith  sheds  forth  a  tender  light, 

Which  unto  us  doth  show 
His  crimson  footsteps  on  the  frozen  snow, — 
Forming  the  track  of  immortality 

Through  death  for  us  to  Thee. 


''BE    YE  GLAD,  AND  REJOICE:'  229 

NOT  LOST. 

Content  thee  ;  in  dear  Paradise 

There  waits  a  day 
Smiling  for  thee  when  shadows  here 

Have  passed  av.ay. 

And  standing  'neath  the  joyous  palms, 

To  thee  'twill  seem 
That  all  the  years  and  tears  wept  out 

Are  one  faint  dream. 

He  gives  us,  and  He  gives  us  not, — 

Our  God  can  wait, — 
And  His  best  gifts  He  keeps  for  us. 

Nor  gives  too  late. 

No  smile  is  lost  for  evermore. 

Lost  is  no  lov^e  ; 
They  wander  home  to  wait  for  us 

In  joy  above. 


-  BUT  BE  YE  GLAD.  AND  REJOICE." 

Do  we  not  pitch  our  songs  too  low, 

O  sweet  my  fellow-singers  ? 
Too  oft  alone  life's  paths  we  go 

Like  funeral-bell  ringers. 


230    ''BE    YE  GLAD,  AND  REJOICED 

Too  much  we  sing  of  pain  and  loss, 

Of  grief  and  desolation  ; 
Is  there  no  sunshine  from  the  cross  ? 

No  gladness  in  salvation  ? 

Too  oft  we  strike  the  somber  chord 

Of  sin's  depressing  story  ; 
Too  loud  we  chant,  "  Have  mercy.  Lord  ! ' 

Too  faintly,  "Give  God  glory  ! " 
If  Grief  must  modulate  the  strain 

Into  a  mournful  minor, 
Strong  Faith  should  quickly  soar  again 

In  major  chords  diviner. 

7 
Our  path  is  not  so  very  rough, 

Our  sky  so  very  dreary  ; 
There's  always  ease  and  light  enough 

To  keep  some  corner  cheery. 
Why  note  so  well  each  flying  cloud, 

That  casts  a  hand-broad  shadow, 
And  overlook  the  beams  that  flood 

The  whole  wide-blooming  meadow  ? 

"Till  now''  said  Paul  in  olden  days, 
"  The  whole  creation  groaneth  ; 

But  he  \yho  walks  in  heavenly  ways 
A  weight  of  glory  owneth." 


''BE   YE  GLAD,  AND  REJOICEr    23 1 

Ah  !  even  yet  our  love  for  Christ 

Too  often  "  lies  a-bleeding," — 
How  can  we  go  to  His  sweet  tryst 

Without  a  "joy  exceeding  "  ? 


Oh,  let  us  tune  our  harps  again, 

And  raise  the  pitch  up  higher. 
And  join  on  earth  the  gladsome  strain 

That  thrills  the  heavenly  choir, — 
Forget  to  sing  of  sin  and  fear. 

Of  woe  and  consolation, 
And  let  our  voices  ring  out  clear 

In  songs  of  exultation  ! 

We  ask  the  watchmen  on  the  hills, — 

"  What  cheer  ?   What  sign  of  dawning  ?  '* 
Like  music  sweet  the  answer  thrills, — 

"  Night  broods — but  comes  the  morning." 
Be  that  the  word  we  pass  along, — 

"  Night  broods  (for  rest,  not  sadness)  ; 
But  morning  comes  !  Leap,  heart !  wake  song  ! 

We  scarce  can  rest  for  gladness  1 " 


253  HYMN. 

HYMN. 

Reru7n  Deus  tcnax  vigor, 

O  Thou  true  life  of  all  that  live  ! 

Who  dost,  unmoved,  all  motion  sway  ; 
Who  dost  the  morn  and  evening  give, 

And  through  its  changes  guide  tlie  day 

Thy  light  upon  our  evening  pour, — 
So  may  our  souls  no  sunset  see  ; 

But  death  to  us  an  open  door 
To  an  eternal  morning  be. 

Father  of  mercies  !  hear  our  cry 
Hear  us,  O  sole  begotten  Son  ! 

Who,  with  the  Holy  Ghost  most  high, 
Reignest  while  endless  ages  run. 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 


PAGE 

A  Christless  cross  no  refuge  were  for  me 86 

A  dewdrop  falling  on  the  wild  sea  wave 214 

Ah!  many  a  time  we  look,  on  star-lit  nights.. .  95 

All  my  ships  are  out  at  sea 73 

Alpha  and  Omega 218 

"  A  pleasant  room  !  "  the  lady  said 99 

As  a  ploughed  field 15 

As  feel  the  flowers  the  sun  in  heaven 113 

As  from  the  bow'd-down  branches  of  the  trees,.  112 

As  I  was  gathering  violets  in  the  snow 58 

Ask  God  to  give  thee  skill 176 

As  once  towards  Heaven  my  face  was  set. ...  8 

As  one  who  entereth  by  night  a  room 205 

As  one  who  through  a  tree 18 

As  the  deep  blue  of  Heaven  brightens  into  stars.  i 

As  years  form  circles  in  the  forest  tree 172 

At  set  of  sun 135 

A  Voice  to  me  calling — calling  ! 94 

A  Vine  went  wandering  o'er  the  ground 187 

Bare  and  sunshiny,  bright  and  bleak 67 

Before  the  Sultan's  throne  appears 184 

233 


234         INDEX   OF  FIRST  IINES. 

PAGE 

Better  to  be  driven 156 

"  Bide  a  wee  and  dinna  weary  " 17 

Call  all  who  love  Thee,  Lord,  to  Thee 157 

Christ  did  not  send 65 

Content  thee  ;  in  dear  Paradise 229 

Dear  Lord,  my  will  from  Thine  doth  run 55 

Death  !  since  thy  darksome  mist 108 

Despair  not  in  the  vale  of  woe 211 

Do  we  not  pitch  our  songs  too  low  ? 229 

Easter  blossoms,  honeyed  blossoms,  gathered 

here  in  holy  places 115 

Ere  yet  the  early  morn  did  waken 149 

Even  here,  from  His  dear  children's  eyes 11 

Every  day  has  its  dawn 57 

Faith  is  a  grasping  of  Almighty  power 132 

Faith  and  hope 153 

Fighting  the  battle  of  life 176 

Filled  with  weariness  and  pain. 104 

'*  Forever  "  they  are  fading 127 

Froth,  or  scum,  or  sparkling  wine 14 

God  only  smites,  that  through  the  wounds  of 

woe. 98 

God  strengthen  me  to  bear  myself.    ...    175 

Grace  for  this  day's  work  or  burden 181 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 


235 


Guest  in  a  ruinous  hut,  thou  loathest  to  de- 
part    21 

He  standeth  knocking  at  the  door 190 

He  went  from  me  so  softly  and  so  soon 193 

How  doth  the  law  of  sacrifice 148 

How  will  He  make  us  glad  ? 45 

Humility  befits  . .  ^ 185 

"I  am  no  thief,"  quoth  Death,    "I  do  but 

borrow  " 182 

I  do  not  try  to  see  my  way 25 

If  thou  art  blest 129 

If  you  cannot  on  the  ocean 58 

I  have  made  Thee  my  choice 80 

I  have  no  wit,  no  words,  no  tears 189 

I  know  not  what  shall  befall  me 141 

I  saw  a  vessel  which  the  waves  did  spare 217 

I  love  Thy  skies  and  sunny  mists 120 

I  met  the  Saviour  in  the  evening  hours 27 

I  mourn  no  more  my  vanished  years 38 

I  need  not  leave  the  jostling  world 15 

It  is  not  the  deed  that  we  do 218 

In  the  gloaming,  in  the  gloaming 168 

In  the  hush  and  the  gray  of  the  twilight 164 

Into  a  sorrow-darkened  soul 35 

I  love  my  God,  but  with  no  love  of  mine 223 

I  say  to  thee — do  thou  repeat 179 

Is  it  so,  O  Christ   in  Heaven,  that  the  highest 

suffer  most  ? 2o3. 


236         INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES, 


PAGE 


Is  thy  cruse  of   comfort  wasting?     Rise  and 

share  it  with  another. . 31 

I  think  if  thou  could'st  know 107 

In  a  ploughed  field  I  saw  a  sea-bird  rest 226 

It  is  so  sweet  to  live 69 

*'  I  thought  I  knew  it,"  she  said . .  90 

It  seems  such  a  woful  waste 42 

I  wait  and  watch  :  before  my  eyes 150 

**  I  wake,  O  Lord,  and  pray  " 196 

I  watched  a  withered  leaf  borne  high 55 

I  will  not  let  Thee  go.  Thou  Help  in  time  of 

need 96 

I  will  take  refuge  in  my  God 160 

Jesu  !  the  very  thought  of  Thee iil 

Just  to  let  the  Father  do 123 

Just  when  Thou  wilt,  O  Master,  call 143 

Laid  on  Thy  altar,  O  our  Lord  Divine 85 

Like  a  cradle  rocking,  rocking 131 

Like  as  a  father,  when  His  children  weary. ...  213 

Like  flowing  streams  our  years  go  by 63 

Lord,    dost     Thou    call     this    our    affliction 

*  *  light "  ? 44 

Lord,  if  Thy  wounds  have  filled  the  world  with 

peace 202 

Lord,  I  had  planned  to  do  Thee  service  true. .  132 

Lord  of  my  nights  and  days 103 


INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES. 


237 

PAGE 


Lord,  since  Thy  Christ  hath  walked  death's 

sea ^ 228 

Lord,  Thou  dost  enter  in 92 

Lord,  Thou  dost  know 221 

Many,  if  God  should  make  them  kings 155 

Never  a  word  is  said 93 

No  dash  of  waters  on  the  rocky  shore? 172 

No  night  of  gloom,  to  drop  between  our  eyes. .  89 

Not  always  unimpeded  can  I  pray 161 

Not  here  !  not  here  !  not  where  the  sparkling 

waters 206 

Not  to  be  first ;  how  hard  to  learn 71 

**  Now  have  I  won  a  marvel  and  a  truth  " 10 

O  faintest  ripple,  breaking  on  the  dim 198 

O  God  of  Calvary  and  Bethlehem I15 

O  Lord  and  Master  of  us  all 69 

O  Messengers  of  God,  are  ye  beside  us? 170 

Once  in  a  dream  I  saw  the  flowers 5 

One  day  I  wandered  where  the  salt  sea  tide. . .  145 

One  Name  alone  in  all  this  death-struck  earth .  52 

O  stream  of  love 73 

O  sweet  and  wondrous  promise 47 

O  that  my  soul  had  wings  !  we  sighing  cry 61 

O  Thou  true  Life  of  all  that  live 232 

Out  on  the  wayside  a  little  flower  pined 158 

Over  the  world  the  snow-flakes  are  lying 214 


238         INDEX   OF  FIRST  LINES, 


PAGE 


O  Way  for  all  that  live  !  heal  us  by  pain  and 

loss .^ 48 

O  weary  burden,  ever  borne 77 

Pain's  furnace-heat  within  me  quivers 227 

Ringing  softly  in  mine  ear 221 

Sad  is  our  youth,  for  it  is  ever  going 41 

Set  a  painting  in  a  certain  light 127 

**  Shine   on   me,   Lord,   for    other   light    doth 

wane  " 153 

Should  Sorrow  lay  her  hand  upon  thy  shoulder.   209 

Since  in  a  land  not  barren  still 66 

Sing,  O  sighing  heart 72 

Siiik  in,  thou  blessed  sign _  5gj 

Slow,  stealing  steps  of  moonlight  white.  .....    129 

**  Some  sixty, — some  an  hundred  :  "^Why. . .    119 

Still  on  the  lips  of  all  we  question 113 

Sweet  is  the  solace  of  Thy  love 75 

Take  my  life,  and  let  it  be 9 

Take  them,  O  Death  !  and  bear  away 200 

Take  Thine  own  way  with  me,  dear  Lord.  ...     32 

Teach  me,  my  God  and  King .-.    195  ^ 

**  Tell  them  I  AM,"  Jehovah  said 76 

Tender  mercies,  on  my  way 154 

Thanks  be  to  God  !  to  whom  earth  owes 109 

The  crimson  petals  of  the  withering  day 98 

The  day  is  dead  !     The  stealing  night. .......   224 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES.  239 

PAGE 

The  day  is  ended.     Ere  I  sink  to  sleep 126 

The  earth  and  heaven  were  rolled  up  like  a 

scroll • .  •  •  • 23 

The  little  worries  which  we  meet  each  day 34 

The  morning  comes  across  the  hills 178 

The  new-made  grave  lies  bare  and  brown 209 

There  are  immortal  moments  in  each  life 46 

There  are  two  twilights  unto  every  day 44 

These  *'  little  ones  "  whom  we  despise 161 

The  spirit  of  self-sacrifice I59 

The  wave  is  mighty,  but  the  spray  is  weak. ...  96 
*'  They  will  not  grow,"  the  grave  old  gardener 

said 29 

This  gray  round  world,  so  full  of  life 183 

This  learned  I  from  the  shadow  of  a  tree. ....  196 

Thou  everlasting  Rock 139 

Thou  hast  for  us. a  table  spread  . 192 

Thou  Searcher  of  all  hearts,  look  down  and  see.  137 

Thy  way — not  mine,  O  Lord 185 

Too  long  have  I,  methought,  with  tearful  eye.  117 

Unto  him  that  hath.  Thou  givest 51 

Unstable  waves  grow  firm  below  Christ's  feet..  62 

Unworthy,  Lord,  are  we 144 

We  praise  Thee  oft  for  hours  of  bliss 151 

We  stood  beside  the  sculptured  screen 86 

We  walk  beneath  the  shelter  of  God's  wings. .  37 

We  would  see  Jesus !  we  have  longed  to  see  Him.  78 


240         INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

PAGE 

What  can  I  do  for  thee,  beloved  ? 203 

"What  canst  thou  do?"  said  the  oak  to  the 

flower 35 

What  if  the  heat  and  the  burden 12 

What  life  art  thou  living  ? iiy 

When  Christ  across  the  tempest  of  our  will. . .    168 

When  darkness  gathers  round  my  path ig 

When  first  thy  eyes  unveil,  give  thy  soul  leave.     28 

When  founts  of  Marah  on  our  way 220 

When  God  at  first  made  man 20 

When  I  am  sitting  alone 2 

When  musing  Sorrow  weeps  the  past 134 

When  my  sun  of  life,  O  Christ,  is  setting 21 

When  the  great  Ship  of  life 163 

Where  hast  thou  been  toiling  all  day.  Sweet- 
heart ? 81 

Where  the  cliff  o'erlooks  the  sea 201 

Where  we  but  see  the  darkness  of  the  mine. .  .    102 

Why  should  my  prayings  oft 108 

Within  this  leaf,  to  every  eye 167 

"  Would'st  thou  glance  " 50 

Yea,  all  the  paths  of  earth  lead  up  to  thee   .  . .  121 

Yes  1  I  do  feel,  my  God,  that  I  am  Thine.  . .  .  174 
*'  Yet,  spite  of  all,  some  good  work  thou  hast 

wrought " 122 


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UNIVERSITY 


UNIVERSITY   OF    CALIFORNIA 
LIBRARY 

This  is  the  date  on  which  this 
book  was  charged  out. 


liii 


fr%^r 


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